It Was Written In The Mythology
by ivyclaire
Summary: What can possibly happen when Clarke texts the wrong number? She thinks it's just an error, but it's only the beginning of the changes in her life. Modern AU. /They say it's what you make, I say it's up to fate/
1. Mythologically connected

**I don't own anything in this story; it's a work of pure fiction.**

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_Wednesday, November 21st_

_12:36 a.m._

C: If you don't show your sorry ass here, I'm going to attack you.

C: I mean it, Finn! Watch your back...

C: Come on! I've been sitting all day waiting 4U.

C: Okay, now I'm seriously worried, man. You hate it when I try to act like your buddies from the streets.

C: Not that you have ones on the _streets_. Otherwise we would actually LIVE ON OUR OWN.

_2 minutes later_

C: I bought myself a car. I used your credit card.

C: Oh, I also bought a mansion in LA. (Used your account obviously).

C: I'm going to Brazil.

C: I hired a stripper.

C: I'm writing a novel.

C: „How to get away with killing your boyfriend"

C: I got inspired by the actual events from my life...

C: I swear to God, Finn, answer me!

_5 minutes later_

B: Um... Hello...?

C: Finally! Your graceful ass has decided to write me back, oh lord accept my gratitude!

B: I'm sorry, I decided to write you back, because I was frightened about your future actions regarding a man named... Finn?

B: Oh, please, tell me you didn't kill him.

C: Hilarious. So... you're not Finn, are you?

B: Nope. And I'm very happy about not being him. Don't get me wrong, that stripper thing was interesting. About the novel however...

C: Shut up.

B: I'm sorry, but you're the weird one here.

C: I'm not weird...! Just a little.. anxious.

B:Anxious? More like frantic.

C: Look, I'm sorry for making myself look like a complete freak, but the point is... I don't care.

B: Oh, but you should.

C: Why so? I don't even know you.

B: Well, _I _know you. I know what you're capable of...

C: Um not impressed...?

B: Are you alive there? Or in the middle of murdering your... whoever this guy is to you. I hope he's not your husband though...

_10 minutes later_

C: My fiance actually. Not that it's any of your business.

B: So why were you so mad at him?

C: There are about a hunded reasons for me to answer with a simple _piss off_. But guess what? I won't, 'cause I'm polite in spite of what you might think about me.

B: Well, you still haven't answered. Rude.

C: Piss off.

B: How charming.

C: Finn, I texted the wrong number and now some old gross dude thinks I'm a freak. And it's all your fault, so you better show up or I'll tell Jasper that you were cheating in poker yesterday.

B: It's still me.

B: I'm not some old gross dude, you freak.

C: Can you just... change your number or something?

B: Nope, sorry, princess. Not the entire world spins around your little tower.

C: Too bad. There are really incredible views up here.

B: I'm on my way.

C: I'll shoot you before you even come close.

B: You can shoot?

C: Yes. Right in your heart.

B: Having fun?

C: Obviously.

B: Good, have fun while you still can...

C: What a lame threat, like was it supposed to impress me?

B: No, it was just a short decription of what getting married feels like.

C: Like you'd know.

B: Not personally.

C: So you're a... priest?

_5 minutes later_

B: Are you fucking joking

C: Um... no?

B: I'm not a priest, God, send help.

C: Don't choke on your laughter.

C: You can actually choke, idiot.

B: Was it a threat?

C: Nope, just a friendly advice.

B: You're mentally unstable.

C: You don't know shit about me. And don't joke about mental illnesses, you obnoxious arsehole.

B: But you enjoy this conversation?

C: Nope.

B: Just a little.

C: No whatsoever.

B: Come on, princess. Then just stop writing to me.

C: Oh, please, like it's a challenge?

B: I see it is.

C: I'm not the one replying.

B: You just can't resist my charm. Admit it.

C: Tell me one thing.

B: Yeah?

B: Come on, princess.

B: I'm dying to know.

B: I can answer all of your questions.

B: All of them.

B: Like literally...

C: Will you shut up? Jesus.

B: What about your question?

C: You just got it, genius. Use your brain, I'm sure you can do it.

C: C'mon, it's not a difficult task.

C: I'm here for you!

C: Sending my warmest regards and loads of support.

C: It might cross your abilities, but try.

C: Do it for me...

B: It wasn't funny.

C: Oh my God, tell me you're not offended! I think I'll die, ohmygodsdf

B: I am offended. Very much offended.

C: Fragile male ego.

B: You owe me apologies.

C: Don't hold your breath.

B: What's your name?

C: Too difficult for you to remember, sorry.

B: Then I'll just call you princess.

C: This nickname is simply dumb. What's yours?

B: Ladies' smokin' hot man.

C: I asked about your name, ladykiller. Keep it cool.

B: Ladykiller? Good one.

C: Gross.

B: You invented it, not me.

C: You haven't answered my question.

_2 minutes later_

B: Bellamy.

C: I'd say it's a pleasure, but my mother taught me not to lie.

B: Then you obviously didn't listen.

C: How would you know?

B: Because you already like me.

C: Ever heard of Narcissus?

B: I love mythology, princess, so the answer is yes.

C: So I take it you know what happened to him?

B: I hope you mean it metaphorically.

C: Guess you'll never know...

B: Oh, how easily you send me to Hades.

C: It's not a real thing, Apollo.

B: Why Apollo?

C: You're poetic. And dramatic.

B: Will you ever reveal your name?

C: How can I know you're not some creep?

B: Excuse me? It wasn't me talking about killing my boyfriend, so...

C: You know I haven't done that.

B: Well, how can I be sure?

C: I'm telling you now. I haven't killed my boyfriend, for God's sake.

B: Good to know.

C: I'm wasting my day texting you and I don't even know what's happening with my fiance.

B: It's not my fault. I didn't ask for that charm, but I understand you, it's irresistable. You even forgot about your fiance, Aphrodite.

C: Why Aphrodite?

B: Because you're a heartbreaker.

C: I didn't cheat on my fiance!

B: Well, forgetting about him, being so cold and indifferent... Sounds like a betrayal to me.

C: Obviously you've never been engaged.

B: Hell no. My sister is though.

C: You have a sister?

B: Yes. Do you?

C: No, I don't have any siblings at all.

B: Would you like to have any?

C: Depends. Is it fun?

B: With O? I always have to look for her, like constantly. So, no, it's not fun.

C: But you love her?

B: More than Icarus loved his dreams.

C: Did you get burned?

B: Many times.

C: Just don't fall.

B: I'm afraid of heights.

C: But you keep flying?

B: I'm my sister's keeper.

C: Fear of falling is like fear of losing her.

B: How metaphorical, princess.

C: I didn't start it.

B: But you engaged in it. Are you an artist?

C: I draw. A lot.

B: Really? I'm not much of an artiste.

C: What do you do for a living?

B: Many things.

C: Like robbing banks, smuggling, dealing drugs?

B: What are you on?

C: „I do many things". C'mon how does that sound?

B: It's not my fault that you like to misinterpret and embellish things.

C: It's a boring world we live in.

B: Intelligent people never get bored.

C: Stupid people say that to make smart people feel stupid.

B: … Right. What do you do for a living?

_6 minutes later_

C: I... I sell my art.

B: You hesitated.

C: It's not a... it's not something to be proud of.

B: What? Being an artist? I think it's beautiful.

C: Maybe. But it's also useless. And financially insecure.

B: Well, I didn't expect anything else from a princess.

C: Excuse me? You think I don't know what hard work is? I've been working night shifts in a bar for my entire highschool to afford receiving education. I work in a library everyday and then I work as a bartender. I don't have free weekends. I make my art every night, because it's the only time I have for it and believe me it's fucking hard when you have three other people in one room loud as if they were drunk the entire time, so don't judge me when you know nothing about my life.

B: Look, I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you.

C: But you did.

B: I'm sorry.

C: You're an idiot.

B: Why did you engage?

C: Um... excuse me? What kind of question is that? Out of love, of course.

B: And you're not worried about the white dress, the ceremony, all this?

C: You mean the money. Obviously. But it's not like we're getting married tomorrow. Besides, love's above everything. At least that's what they say.

B: How romantic, Aphrodite. I think she wasn't this ironic about love actually.

C: I didn't choose this nickname. I never said I wasn't ironic.

B: You would be thrown off the Olympus.

C: For speaking the truth? Screw these mendacious so called gods.

B: Piss off, I love greek mythology. Besides, there was a goddes of discord and chaos, it'd suit you.

C: Then why didn't you choose her for me instead of Aphrodite?

B: I don't think you're this bitter.

C: She indirectly provoked the Trojan War. I love her.

B: Aphrodite did it almost directly.

C: Wars outbroke because of women. Men kill for women.

B: What's the point?

C: Should there be a point? I said it because it's true.

B: I wish I'd know your fiance.

C: Why?

B: I'd like to see his character compared to yours.

C: He's more like... Prometheus. Helpful, altruistic, humble, peaceful.

B: We tend to idealize people we love.

C: What are you suggesting?

B: Me? Nothing. Should I be suggesting anything? I said it because it's true.

C: Shut up.

* * *

**Hello! I got inspired and started writing a new story. It's really different from the first one, I hope you like it though. Not every chapter will look like this one, but I needed this idea to introduce the characters. Let me know what you think and have a lovely week!**

**(The lyrics from the summary come from Imagine Dragons' song _Demons_. I don't own it.)**


	2. I'm not Aphrodite

_Wednesday, November 21st_

_6:59 p.m._

B: Are you alive? Or, more important question, is your _fiance_ alive?

B: Just kidding. I know he's not.

C: Shut up or I'll release my inner goddess of chaos and discord.

B: You haven't texted me for the entire day. I missed your constant threats and the lack of any resemblance to Aphrodite.

C: Come on, Apollo, we've just met. Don't be so dramatic, I had some work to do.

B: Hiding a body, maybe?

C: Funny how that's the first thing that comes to your mind. Maybe you should hide your own bodies in the closet, I guess you've got some.

B: You've seen me through. I could share some crucial techniques with you if you weren't so rude.

C: Oh, don't worry. I'm already professional and highly skilled on this field.

B: I bet you are, heartbreaker.

C: Go get yourself some work, 'cause you're clearly floating in space.

B: Not only you have a life to deal with, princess.

C: I don't. I live in a tower, forgot?

_7:18_

I open the door only to see Jasper kissing some girl's cheek. She's about my height, her black hair reaching her shoulders. She has incredibly dark, distinctive eyebrows contrasting with her rather gentle features.

'Going in or out?', I ask impatiently, since they block my exit.

'Hey, Clarke! It's Maya, my...', I don't even let him finish as I squeeze past them in quite a rude fashion. I have _sorry_ written all over my face, but I'm so damn late.

'Look, I'm so very happy for you, really, but I'm already late to work. Sorry guys, have fun and don't take your shoes off!', I yell already going downstairs.

'Wait, Clarke! Why not?', Jasper looks at me as if I was not entirely sane. I roll my eyes and steady myself using the handrail. I almost fall from the last stair.

'Just don't, okay? Trust me you don't want to know what's on the floor. Oh, and pleasure to meet you, Maya! Keep Jasper away from poker tonight, he lost all of his money yesterday', I grin at Jasper and disappear from their view. I have one more floor down to get to the exit of the flat.

I work in a bar about ten minutes from my apartment. I should start my shift at 7 p.m., but I'm always late. It's a miracle they haven't fired me yet, but it's such a den no one really wants to work there. Besides, there aren't that many clients during the week. It's different on the weekends, when I have to come even earlier. Which, in my case, means 7 o'clock.

'You're late, Griffin', I hear a familiar voice the second I enter the place. I smirk and get behind the counter.

'You're boring, Miller', I snort and take off my jacket.

'You're lucky it's not a busy day', he says in my ear as he passes me. He sends me a wink as he sits on the seat in front of me.

'Careful, Nate. I might think you're flirting with me', I smile seductively.

'Oh, please, I always flirt with you', he grins as I roll my eyes with amusement.

'Yeah, you're almost as good of a ladykiller as you are a thief', I retort spotting a new client entering the bar.

'_Ladykiller_? Spicy', he whispers as I burst into laughter. This nickname reminds me of someone though. I pull my cell phone out of my jacket's pocket and check the messages.

B: Get to work, you rude grimalkin.

C: I am working just now. You better tell me what you're doing for a living if you're not a drug dealer or a smuggler. Can't think of anything else suiting you... or perhaps a history teacher with an obsessive tendency to compare your life to mythological stories using metaphorical bullshit...?

PS: Work on your trash talk, Apollo.

'Look who's unconsciously smiling! Is it your beloved fiance texting you?', I hear Nate's mocking voice as I raise my head averting my eyes from the screen.

'Don't be a nosy brat, Miller', I hide my cell phone in the pocket of my jeans and lean my elbows on the counter.

'It's not him...! God, Clarke, please, I'm _dying_ to hear some gossips', he groans and hits the counter with his forehead.

'I'm not Aphrodite if that's what you're thinking', I snort with an amused spark in my voice.

'Change the dealer, Clarke', he retorts raising his head.

'Oldest joke ever', I roll my eyes with a grin.

'It's not a joke if it's true. Who's Aphrodite?', he looks at me suspiciously as some girl sits next to him by the counter.

'Educate yourself. And get to work', I retort.

'Hey, I know who she is! I just don't get the connection. You're nothing like her', he raises his eyebrow.

'What can I get you?', I ask the girl sitting next to him, ignoring Nate's dramatic moment.

'I'm having a really shitty time right now and I thought I could get lost here', she replies resignedly.

'Sorry, but as you can see no party tonight... unless you want to throw your own', I wink at her.

'Yeah, like how?', she looks at me, her expression hesitating between irony and curiosity.

'There's karaoke over there. I prerecordered some really terrible pop songs, you'll love it', I lean my hands on the counter moving closer to the stranger as if I was telling her some secret. She thinks about it for a second, I bet she'll say no, but her expression changes after a moment.

'You know what? It's a great idea', she claps loudly as if to encourage herself and gets up. I don't really think she needs any encouragement, she looks confident and very _free._

I watch her as she makes her way to the tiny scene and stands in front of the microphone.

'You have the list of the songs behind you, press the button and wait', I yell in her direction as she's unsure what to do next. She turns around and it takes her a couple of seconds to pick a song.

'Oh my God, what kind of songs are these?', she laughs and turns around.

'I told you you'd love them!', I shout and hit Nate in the arm.

'What?', he raises his head, his eyes sleepy.

'Wake up, we've got a customer', I say quietly and watch the girl grin at us. The bar's empty besides the three of us and there's just something I really like about her, the way she smiles or laughs as if she could never rejoice enough. I watch her as she starts singing. She has a very nice voice, not a professional or a trained one, but it's really pretty.

'_Take me some place where there's music and there's laughter_', she closes her eyes and grips the microphone. It's almost as if the song spoke to her on some personal level. Or perhaps I'm just reading too much into her expression.

'_Yeah, I just keep on keeping on_', she sings waving her hands in the air as if she tried to dance a little as I pull the phone out of my jacket. If I did this, I'd look completely dumb, but there's some freedom and carelessness about her and the moves suit her.

B:I study history and literature. You almost guessed it, princess. How's being a bartender? Got into any fight yet? Oh, and by the way, my trash talk is way better than yours, you cocky, lame imitation of a goddess.

C: Rich parents, huh? And you called _me_ a princess... funny. Nope, I stay out of trouble, just tonight, you know. No clients, no fun, no bleeding noses or black eyes. I'm listening to karaoke.

'_Something good comes with the bad...'_, the girls sings as I lean on the counter. Nate watches her mesmerized as I hit his arm and roll my eyes at his look of admiration.

'_There's hope, there's silver lining_', she opens her eyes and looks at me with a grin on her face, her eyes sparkling. When she sings it, it lifts not only her heart, but also _mine_ and I smile unconsciously.

I feel my phone buzz in my hand.

B: I work as a self-defence instructor on weekends. I don't have rich parents. In fact, I don't have them at all.

PS: I know you wish I was _your_ dealer.

C: Guess our lives aren't so different after all. But I don't believe you, Bellamy. You said you have a sister that you have to constantly take care of. So I take it she lives with you, which also means that you have to provide money for the both of you. Which also means that a weekend job wouldn't cover for all of it, liar.

PS: Now I'm sure you're dealing drugs, Apollo. Does _Ciudad Juarez_ ring a bell?

'_I won't take the easy road, the easy road, the easy road..._', the girl takes the microphone and leaves the stage coming closer to us. I raise my head as she reaches out her hand for me to grab. I do and she spins me around.

'_Show me my silver lining..._', she sings pulling me to the stage with her. I roll my eyes as I hear Miller whistle behind me. I smile against my will as she puts the microphone in my hand and turns around to read the list. The song ends and I dread her choice.

'How about...', she says with a devilish smirk and pushes a button.

'No...!', I groan as I hear the song she picked for me. My voice's raspy as I sing the first lyrics.

'_You found me, you found me..._', I sing uncertainly. The girls whistles and Miller claps and shouts something incoherently. I avert my eyes and hide a smile.

'_I guess you didn't care and I guess I liked that_', I grin and grip the microphone. Nate smirks and looks at me with something like... surprise? I close my eyes and let the music fill my mind.

'_Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in... so shame on me now_', I notice our female customer approaching the stage. I open my eyes as she comes closer and starts dancing next to me on the stage. I laugh and grab her hand to spin her around.

'_Oh, I new you were trouble when you walked in.._.', I frown noticing the door open. Isn't life ironic? It's almost funny.

I open my mouth to keep singing, but I notice the girl's expression. It's full of anger, fury almost.

I notice the new client appraching us as the girl leaves the stage. It's a man in his twenties, dark hair, brown eyes, he's tall and walks with his chin up as if to mark his confidence. He's handsome, but something about his expression irritates me. I put the microphone back as Taylor Swift continues her song without me. Driven by a strange sensation, I follow the girl and stand in front of the customer. Nate watches me carefully with a confused expression. He waves his hands behind the customer's back as if to ask me something, but I don't know this guy. It's just that...

'Octavia, you're going home', he states and grabs her arm.

'You can't control me', the girl looks at him with an unspoken wrath and hits his arm with hers as she makes her way to the exit. He turns around too, but I grab his forearm. Who is he? Her commanding boyfriend? Not in my bar. Well, it's not exactly _my _bar, but I won't let him order my clients around.

'What the _hell_?', I glare at him. He cannot just command people like that. I notice the girl behind him stop and glance at me.

'Sorry, who are you?', he asks with pure loathing written all over his face as if me interrupting was something too irrelevant to even notice.

'Who do you think _you _are? Leave my customer alone', I spit out. I notice Nate dramatically waving at me. It's not like I'm about to start a bar fight, I know better than that.

'She might be your customer, but she's my_ sister_. And it's none of your business, so do you mind?', he asks faking weariness. I let go of his arm and keep the eye contact until he turns around and leaves the bar with Taylor Swift screaming _I knew you were trouble when you walked in... Trouble, trouble, trouble... _Like I said. Life's ironic.

'He's so _tall_ and handsome as _hell_..._', _I hear Nate's mocking high-pitched voice and it takes me out of my thoughts. I roll my eyes, but it makes me chuckle.

'Shut up', I shake my head and get behind the counter.

'What was that?', he asks leaning closer to me. His eyes have a weird spark within as if he was hiding something from me.

'I just... he doesn't have the power over her', I blurt out and rub my eyes.

'Yeah, correct, but... he's her brother', he tries hard not to grin, but fails.

'I said shut up', I hit his arm with a grin and check my phone.

B: Maybe it's better if you think I'm a drug dealer after all. Ever heard that sentence „truth will set you free"? Well, that's not always the case. Anyway, _Ciudad Juarez_? Not funny at all. Are you Mexican?

C: Now you got me interested. Maybe I didn't get it right after all. Maybe you're not such an Apollo, eh? I'm not Mexican. I live in the US.

B: Maybe you're not such an Aphrodite.

C: I'm not Aphrodite.

B: Maybe you're not a goddess after all.

C: You're so mean.

B: Only truth will set you free.

C: Hypocrite much?

B: It applies sometimes, especially when you have a personality crisis, princess.

C: Text me when you figure me out.

B: I have to know you better to figure you out.

C: What's the problem?

B: You live in a tower.

C: Is this some metaphysical metaphor I don't understand?

B: And you said _I _was a liar. What is it with smart girls that they always play dumb?

C: I'm not having this conversation right now.

B: Is this because I asked an inconvenient question?

C: No, it's because I'm working, you philosophical prodigy of our era.

B: Text me when you figure it out.

C: The metaphor? Or that ridiculous statement?

B: You wish it was ridiculous.

C: I wish you'd answer my question for once.

B: You already know the answer, princess.

C: This whole conversation doesn't make sense.

B: Like I said. Smart girls play dumb.

C: Do something productive. Your metaphors won't change the world.

B: Why should I want to change it?

C: Because it's a shitty world we live in.

B: I adore your enthusiasm.

C: Someone's got to have brain here. I appreciate your approach though.

B: My approach?

C: You're the heart.

B: If I'm the heart then you're the head.

C: It's funny though, because it's always the question. Should I listen to my heart or my head?

B: Both?

C: But eventually you've got to choose one.

B: My choice is where my heart is.

C: Romantic.

B: What about you?

C: I'm still trying to figure it out.

'I figured it out!', Nate shouts and I almost jump at the sound of his voice.

'What?', I ask suspiciously.

'Aphrodite wasn't faithful to her husband! You cheated on Finn?!', he yells.

'What the hell? I said I wasn't her, Jesus, Nate', I roll my eyes.

'Well, you know. He's so tall...', he says seductively.

'And handsome as hell, yeah I know, but I don't know what you want from that guy', I interrupt him.

'What do _you_ want from him?', he looks at me suspiciously.

'Nothing! Nothing, I just thought... God, I didn't know that he's her brother', I hit my forehead with my hand.

'But you don't like him like you know...?', he asks innocently.

'Okay, what is this about? Do you know this guy?', I lean my hands on the counter and stare at him.

'Maybe. Just... don't befriend him, okay?', he doesn't look at me.

'What...? Are you drunk? High? Sick?', I touch his forehead.

'I mean it, Clarke! He comes here from time to time, stay away from him', he warns me, but I don't even know that guy.

'Allright, sure. Relax, I will', I reply and focus on the new customer.

It's a good thing he didn't make me promise it. I don't like breaking promises.

* * *

**The song performed by Octavia is _My Silver Lining_ by _First Aid Kit_; the song performed by Clarke is _I Knew You Were Trouble_ by Taylor Swift and the line _He's so tall and handsome as hell_ comes from Taylor Swift's _Wildest Dreams_. I don't own any of them, I just used them, because they fit the actual plot. **

**PS: What do you think is Bellamy's secret? Let me know what you think about this chapter and have a nice week!**


	3. Eris's kingdom

_Wednesday, November 22__st_

_ 12:12 a.m._

I open the door not even trying to be quiet. I'm not rude or heartless if that's what you think. I don't want to wake up my roommates. They don't even sleep at all. And _that_'s exactly the problem.

'Clarke! Could you buy some beer?', I hear a voice behind me as I make my way to the kitchen.

'Are you joking?', slowly, I turn around gritting my teeth. I only stopped myself from embellishing this sentence with some luscious swear word, because I'm so tired and it's bloody late and I just want to go to sleep. My wish, however, won't be fullfilled.

'We've just run out of alcohol', Lincoln shrugs and approaches me as I lean my hands on the kitchen counter. I can barely hear him, because of loud pop music blasting from the speakers.

'Then get the hell out of my flat!', I yell exasperatedly. He looks at me with surprise, but really, he's not moved at all.

'Fine!', I spit out and leave the kitchen. I just want to get out of this place.

'You're awesome!', he shouts happily as I open the entrance door only to bump into Nate.

'No, no, no way, Miller, you're not coming in', I block the entrace with my body.

'Is there Finn somewhere?', he asks unfazed and stretches his neck to look above my head.

'Nate! Come in', I hear a familiar voice from behind and roll my eyes. My beloved fiance turned out to be a party animal, what a shame. Maybe it's not too late to cancel the wedding.

'Whatever', I squeeze past him and run down the stairs.

I live with three people. And still that's not enough. I feel like in our flat there's _always_ a party. I don't know who comes in or out or even throws them.

I throw the hood over my head. The nearest twenty four/seven shop is about two minutes from my flat, but I can feel first raindrops on my face.

As I enter the shop, I notice the shop assistant sleeping behind the counter. I snort and search through the shelves. I can hear someone entering the store, but I don't turn around. I don't live in the safest neighbourhood, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was about to turn into robbery. I grab two bottles of beer and turn around. They almost escape from my grip as I stare on the floor in front of me. It's covered in blood spots. I raise my head and notice a guy opposite me hiding something in the pocket of his leather jacket. I want to turn back, but he looks up and meets my gaze.

_Bloody hell_. I know him.

Sometimes I want to ask myself why is my life so _great_, but then I remember it's not.

'Fancy seeing you here, protector of the protected', he snorts and looks at me with this annoying smirk. His left eye is black, his nose is bleeding and his lower lip is cut. I roll my eyes at the statement and pass him.

'Don't', he says quietly and grabs my forearm. I turn around and notice his insecure gaze. He's breathing heavily, I suspect someone hit him in the stomach.

'Let go of my arm or I'll break this bottle on your damn head', I hiss and narrow my eyes.

'You're_ not _going to wake him up', he grips my arm even tighter.

'Watch me', I whisper and jerk my arm releasing it from his grasp.

I lay the beer on the counter with such force it almost breaks the glass. The shop assistant wakes up and looks at me angrily. Before he has a chance to say anything, I put my money in front of him and leave the store. I notice that my new friend has already left the shop. _Obviously_.

I keep walking even when I hear footsteps behind me. It's happened before, people following me around, dealers, smugglers, thieves, suspicious folks. But this time I feel a slight twist in my stomach, because I _know _exactly who this is.

'What do you want?', I ask not turning around or slowing down. He's about five metres away from me.

'Nothing. Just walking', he replies lightly.

'You think I'm scared? Try harder', I snort and immediately regret my careless tongue as he boosts up his pace.

'Brave princess', he says mockingly and I freeze. I turn around, but he's already gone. I scan the surroundings. He's nowhere to be seen.

'Clarke I was beginning to worry... What happened?', Nate approaches me as I lean on the door to our flat and hand him the beer.

'Where's Finn?', I reply with a question instead of answering him. I haven't seen my fiance for the entire day, I wonder if he's even alive.*

'In the living room I guess', he shrugs.

I pass him and head to our tiny bedroom. I take off my jacket and crash onto the bed. Before I close my eyes I check my phone. There are a couple of new messages from a few hours ago.

B: My sister will be the death of me.

B: Hope your day was as eventful as mine, princess.

B: Or not. Days like these make this world a hateful place.

C: What happened?

PS: Yeah, you could say it was an eventful day.

PS2: It'll be a miracle if I don't end up in jail by tomorrow.

B: Not much, but enough to make me doubt in humanity. Or myself.

PS: A princess in jail? What'd you do?

PS2: You don't write _PS2_, there's no such thing.

C: Narcissus doubting in himself? No way.

PS: Well, my friends organised a party in the middle of the night (what a surprise- not at all).

PS2: Then why did you write it?

B: Kick them out.

C: Like it's so easy. Why are you up so late?

B: Couldn't sleep.

C: Your friends are just as messed up as mine?

B: No, no parties in my apartment.

C: And _that_'s the spirit! Can I move in?

B: Nope, sorry.

PS: Unless...

C: You really thought that your little mind game was going to make me ask _unless what_?

_2 minutes later_

C: Unless what?

B: Unless you want to share a mattress with my sister, but I won't let you.

B: Or with _me_...

B: Wish I could see your face right now.

C: I can give you a detailed description of it. Disgusted, slightly scandalized, grossed out...

B: You really thought I was hitting on you?

C: Too late for this shit.

B: Answer the question, princess.

C: I don't answer stupid questions.

B: I can literally see this burning shade of red on your face.

C: I'm out.

B: Is your fiance with you?

C: Bellamy, stop. I'm not kidding.

B: Oh my God, this is just getting better and better.

C: Piss off. I'm going to sleep.

B: I hope you'll dream of me.

C: Yeah, I hope I'll dream of you too. Of you having your head chopped off.

B: Only if you're the executioner.

_8:36 a.m._

'What's up? Barely seen you yesterday', I hear a familiar voice behind me as I chew a toast. I turn around only to be kissed in the forehead.

'Yeah, lots of work as always', I reply carefully.

'Police came yesterday', Finn says carelessly and sits opposite me. I almost choke on my sandwich.

'What for?', I cough violently and drink some water from the cup. My mind gives me vivid images of me in the prison cell as Finn enjoys the dramatic pause.

'Just to blow the party. The neighbours called', he rolls his eyes.

'No fines?', I ask suspiciously.

'No, not at all', he shrugs.

'I gotta go to the library', I get up quickly and leave out house before he has a chance to reply. I don't want to talk to him just now. We have so many things to tell each other I'm not sure we'll ever be able to catch up.

_7:30 p.m._

I hand a drink to a customer and wipe the sweat off my forehead. We have plenty of clients today.

'You know what they say. Wednesday is a small Saturday', Nate chuckles and focuses on his guest.

'Hilarious', I reply quietly, but he doesn't pay attention anyway. Quickly, I check my phone. I always answer messages with quite a delay and this time it's no different.

B: How's at the library? Met any handsome students?

C: Not nearly as handsome as you.

I smirk and hide the phone in the pocket of my jeans. Two can play this game.

'What can I get you...?', I raise my head. As I finish the question it doesn't even sound quizzically.

'Your attention perhaps', it's him. Again. I look at his mocking expression and lean my hands on the counter. Suddenly, I only have him as a client and Nate is at the back of the bar.

'Anything else?', I roll my eyes at his amused expression.

'Vodka', he replies without hesitation.

'Alright. We don't offer free rides home though', I snort and glance at him. His face's still surprisingly colorful, I wonder who beat him up. He doesn't seem as if he needed a bodyguard, but God knows.

'What a shame, I counted on your company a bit longer', he retorts amused.

'Low blow, asshole', I put a glass in front of him with such force, a bit of liquor pours out.

'Was Octavia here earlier?', he asks and drinks it all at once.

'Maybe yes. Maybe not', I answer indifferently.

'Clarke! Could you...', Nate cuts his question short as he notices me talking to the familiar stranger.

'Was she here?', he repeats his question and covers my palm with his hand.

'No', I reply sharply.

'Can I ask for a refill?', he's back to his mocking attitude. His hand leaves mine.

'Bad day at work?', I ask innocently glancing at Nate.

'You could say that', he laughs sarcastically. There's silence after his words.

'Clarke, go on some break, I'll handle it', I hear Nate behind me.

'If you insist', I sigh. I know exactly why Miller said it.

_I mean it, Clarke! Stay away from him._

I squeeze past people on the dancefloor. I feel someone's hand catching my wrist, so I turn around.

'Careful. I might think you're stalking me', I snort as the-not-so-strange-stranger entiwnes his fingers with mine.

'I just want to dance with you', he replies unfazed with a strange spark in his eyes.

'I'm beginning to think I have a really bad timing to meet you so often', I snort. He spins me around.

'I, on the other hand, have an incredibly good timing', he says playfully.

'What is it with you? You threaten me last night, you dance with me tonight?', I reply narrowing my eyes.

'You've had the pleasure to meet two sides of me. I had a really bad day yesterday, sorry about that', he shrugs.

'And today is a good day?', I ask suspiciously, hiding a smirk.

'Nope, but I'm hiding my inner stalking, threatening, beaten up face', he replies with a grin.

'You can't hide such a face', I tease him as he spins me around.

'I'll take it as a compliment', he replies.

'Incorrectly', I retort. He grabs my waist as I whirl.

'Who did this to you?', I ask after a moment of silence filled with slow, subtle music.

'My stupidity', he snorts. I open my mouth to reply, but I notice something above his shoulder.

'Oh God', I sigh and release my hands from his.

'What?', he looks at me surprised.

'Wait, I need to kick some ass', I roll my eyes approaching a very familiar silhouette punching some customer. I slap my dear friend and push him back.

'Lincoln! Get the hell out of my property', I yell at him standing between him and the other guy. I outstretch my hand to widen the distance between them and approach Lincoln.

'Get out. Now', I grit my teeth. He looks above my head with fury, then focuses his gaze on me, before finally giving up and leaving the bar.

'What the hell, Nate? Where have you been?', I yell at Miller as he gapes.

'What was I supposed to do? It's Lincoln!', he shrugs. I turn around, but the stranger's already gone.

'What were you doing over there? Told you not to mess with that guy', he says quietly as I get behind the counter.

'I was just dancing', I shrug innocently and focus on a new client.

As soon as I finish my job I check my phone. I dread the bill I'm going to get.

B: Hope you're not in jail.

C: Nope, at work. As always.

B: Do I sense some bitterness in your voice?

C: I bloody hate this job. My idiotic friends come over and start fights

B: Drop it then.

C: I need money, Apollo.

B: Yeah, well, I'm a student, I know what that means. But you can always find something else.

C: I'm thinking about it, since my careless fiance decided to drop his and go to the university.

B: Your fiance's in the university?

C: Yes. His parents help him pay it.

B: What does he study?

C: Can we change the subject?

B: Someone's got nervous real fast.

C: Look, I'm on my way home and I really want to go to sleep, so do you mind?

B: You don't have to answer my texts.

C: You don't have to write them.

_12:38 a.m._

'Clarke', Lincoln approaches me the second I enter the flat.

'Don't you have your own apartment? Don't show up at my bar ever again', I roll my eyes and sigh.

'Come on, the guy deserved it', he smirks.

'I don't have time for this', I close the bedroom door, but the music still can be heard.

'Clarke, why didn't you...', Finn opens the door, but I throw a pillow at him.

'I'm going to sleep', I only say and bury my face in the sheets. The last thing I do before falling asleep is of course checking my phone.

B: But I want to.

C: Whatever. Life sucks anyway with or without your messages.

B: Just quit your job.

C: I want to quit my life.

B: You can't quit it, but you can change it.

C: Remember when you wrote that it seemed as if I was living in a tower?

B: I wrote that you _did_ in fact live in a tower.

C: Shut up. Anyway I feel like I see the world different than it is.

B: Through a distorted mirror?

C: I'm half-sick of shadows. I want to see the sky.**

B: I can be your rider on the horse.***

C: I don't want a rider with a horse. I want to get out.

C: Especially since he doesn't know my name and all the girls are all the same to him.****

B: Well, you won't live in the tower if you leave it for the rider.

C: The curse is upon me anyway.

B: God in his mercy lend her grace.*****

C: Prayers won't do shit here.

B: Oh, how you destroy the ambience.

C: I'm going to sleep, Lancelot.

B: I'll arrive soon.

C: Don't. I can make it on my own.

B: Good, 'cause I don't think you have a lovely face at all.******

* * *

***This sentence is dedicated for BellamyEverAfter. Your idea of Bellamy being a hitman was beyond awesome and probably much more interesting than what I'm about to pull off. Sadly, Finn's alive and well, but really, you made my day, so thank you very much for your review.**

****Okay, so basically their conversation revolves around _The Lady of Shalott _ballad by Alfred Tennyson with a bit of a song reference.**

_**I'm half-sick of shadows. I want to see the sky**_**\- it's a line from Emilie Autumn's song ****_Shalott_; _I'm half-sick of shadows _is also a line from the said ballad.**

*****It's also a reference from the ballad, where the Lady of Shalott spotted Sir Lancelot who was riding on a horse**

******This line is inspired by the said song and the original lines are: _And I know he doesn't know my name/And that all the girls are all the same to him_**

**The line _The curse is upon me anyway_ is inspired by the original line from the ballad _The curse is upon me._**

**_*****_This is an exact line from the ballad said by Sir Lancelot.**

********It's inspired by the line from the ballad: _She has a lovely face_, said by Sir Lancelot to the Lady of Shalott.  
Sorry about the references it might not be clear, but I hope you'll see the connection. In case of any further questions, you should check out the song and the ballad, it's a really intriguing story. (Or just ask me).**

**(I own neither the ballad nor the song)**

**So. Bellamy's secret has a lot to do with his job (the other, one not the self-defence instructor) and his beaten up face. Hope you liked the chapter, let me know what you think and have a lovely weekend!**

**PS: Thank you so much for the reviews, it's my biggest source of inspiration and motivation.**

**PS2: You guys are awesome. **


	4. In the land of gods and monsters

**The title of this chapter is a line from Lana Del Rey's song _Gods &amp; Monsters_. I don't own it.**

* * *

_Thursday, November 23rd_

_8:11 a.m._

'Clarke...!'

I roll on the back and sigh trying to stay calm. I glance at the door when they open revealing a familiar face.

'What?', I grit my teeth as Finn leans on the doorframe crossing his arms. His expression balances between restrained anger and surprise.

'What is this?', he asks quietly. I roll my eyes, because seriously how can I see what he's talking about when he's standing two metres from me. I don't read minds even though I wish I could.

I get up and approach him, glancing at the paper in his hand.

'This... is a phone bill', I keep a serious face while Finn's about to explode. He takes a deep breath before replying.

'Correct, and what does it show?', he stays calm, even though it's clear that he's mad. It's my turn to take a deep breath as if I was wondering about the answer.

Truth be told, I am. I'm trying to come up with something that won't make him want to commit a homicide.

'A phone bill shows the phonecalls you made, texts you sent and the amount of money you have to pay for it. Is there something wrong? Have you forgotten the inventions' of the century ways of working?', my face's stern.

'I swear to God, Clarke... Do you see the money we've got to pay? Who the hell did you contact so much? Are you in some sort of a conspiracy? Secret security service? Spying agency? If the answer to all these questions is a _no_, then I have no clue', he sighs exasperatedly.

'I work for the Pentagon. There, I told you. You'll have to pay for the truth though. They're coming for you', I whisper as I pass him.

As I enter the kitchen I notice Jasper. He's not alone.

'Oh, Clarke, hey... It's Maya, my...', he looks awkwardly at the girl beside him.

'Yeah, we've met, I know, Jordan. Nice to see you again, Maya', I say as I open the fridge. I don't even care about my clothes anymore, even though I'm wearing a tracksuit bottom and a plain, sleeveless, white blouse. I got used to Monty and Jasper bringing people around, organising all sorts of parties, putting up people, even though our only option is floor since all beds are taken.

'Clarke, I wasn't kidding, alright? You're gonna pay it yourself...', Finn's voice trails off as he notices that I'm not alone.

'Have I ever said it was a problem?', I grit my teeth slowly turning around.

'It is for me', he answers coldly. I notice Jasper's eyes wandering frantically from me to Finn.

'Hey, guys, want anything from the shop...?', Monty squeezes past my fiance and finds himself in the middle of the battlefield.

'No, but I'll go', I reply after a moment of heavy silence. I leave the kitchen and put my sneakers and my hoodie on. It's late Autumn, but it's still really warm outside, the sun's shining and the shop's not far away.

'We're not done, Clarke', I hear Finn's firm voice before I shut the door. _I_ am done.

As I leave the block of flats, I can feel some sort of refreshing freedom and it's more than pleasant. I relax feeling warm rays of sun on my face, but my peace's quickly disturbed.

'Nice outfit', I hear a familiar voice from behind. I raise my eyes as the stranger stops next to me. I turn my head to meet his gaze. He's grey shirt's soaked in sweat, his hair's messy and wet, his amused eyes hide an ironic spark within.

'Piss off', I roll my eyes and avert my gaze. Really though, it was such a beautiful morning for a moment.

'Don't be offended, I meant that', he replies innocently and moves in front of me. I stop so as not to bump into him and sigh.

'What do you want?', I raise my head and look at him challengingly. He sighs loudly and looks down to meet my eyes.

'Do I have to want something? I was just running', he says tilting his head.

'Oh, right and you just_ happened_ to meet me', I roll my eyes.

'Yes, that is exactly what happened. Don't flatter, yourself, Clarke. I've got better things to do than follow you around', he snorts and turns away from me.

'Hey...! Hey, what did just say?!', I yell and run to catch up.

'I said... Don't flatter yourself', he turns around and measures me with his eyes.

'How do you know my name?', I spit. He smirks teasingly.

'You work in a bar, where everybody knows your name', he says playfully as if it was obvious and it triggers something in my mind.

'_Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot'*_, I muse and laugh. He's surprised for a split second, but then he gets it.

'_Wouldn't you like to get away?_'*, he interrupts. I stare at him for a while. He's the first to break the eye contact.

'Nice song isn't it?', he says lightly and runs off before I have a chance to reply.

'Yes. Yes, it is', I answer quietly, even though he's already gone.

_8:53 p.m._

B: Hey, you, unreachable goddess. Having fun?

C: Yeah, almost as if I was at my own funeral. How's life of a successful student?

B: Don't die just yet. I still have to get to know your name.

PS: I never said I was a successful one.

C: Is that the only reason that is supposed to keep me breathing?

PS: Nope, it was an ironic statement, but don't worry. Nonverbal irony is harder to detect.

B: Do you need any other reason?

B: Thanks for your mercy by the way. Irony isn't my strongest point.

C: Being ironical about confessing to not being ironical? Just shut up, please.

B: You haven't answered, princess.

C: I told you. I don't answer stupid questions.

'You look awful, Clarke. It's just Thursday, the boss is out, go home. I'll take care of the bar', Nate leans his elbow on the counter and measures me with his eyes.

'Thanks for the compliment, Miller, you've just brightened up my awfully beautiful day', I roll my eyes hiding a phone in the pocket of my jeans.

'I'm serious, Clarke. Go home', he says and turns his head to face a new client. I sigh and raise my eyes only to see a familiar silhouette approaching the counter. It only motivates me to move quicker.

'Not going to handle me?', he snorts with amusement as I pick my jacket from the hanger behind the counter.

'You can handle yourself. I was just leaving', I reply indifferently and wave Nate goodbye. I hear someone following me as I leave the bar. I stop to put on my jacket and turn around.

'You look terrible', he says, but there's something more than just mockery to this statement.

'Look, I don't give a damn. Just skip to the point', I grit my teeth. The wind's playing with my hair, tangling it and twisting.

'I know a good place for fries and beer', he says carelessly and I'm stunned for a while. I'm just about to say no, but then I remember my own apartment. It's almost nine p.m., I can only imagine what kind of a party's going on right now. Oh, and there's also my mad fiance. I sigh quietly and raise my head.

'Then what are we still doing here?', I snort indifferently after a moment of silence. He lifts one of the corners of his mouth and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

'I just want to say I'm not offering any free rides home', he says with a satisfied grin passing me by. I'm motionless for a moment just watching him cross the street.

'Ain't no horse nor a rider', I mutter and grin against my will as he glances at me.

_9:42 p.m._

'Aren't you too young to drink alcohol?', he asks as I take a sip of my first (as it later turns out one of many) beer.

'Aren't you too smart to ask these questions? Turned the magical number this year. What about you?', I narrow my eyes, even though I can tell that he's older.

'Last year of the university', he reaches for his bottle and drinks his liquor.

'You don't seem too happy about it', I chuckle at his upset expression.

'Future seems a bit vague', he replies pompously.

'Yeah? My bet's on the beer', I snort as he bursts into laughter.

_10:36 p.m._

'No, no, I don't want to go home', I moan and lean my forehead against the table. I've had three beers and about five portions of french fries. You could say I get drunk pretty fast.

'Why do you live with so many people?', he asks with disbelief written all over his face and takes a sip of his beer.

We sit in some dirty den, about twenty minutes from my flat, listening to wild country music and a screaming boss. He literally yells every twenty seconds.

'It's easier this way. And cheaper. What do you do for a living?', I ask and lean my chin on the inside of my hand.

'I'm a student', he replies simply.

'I wish I could afford going to the university', I sigh.

'Where would you want to go?', he asks throwing one of the chips into his mouth. Ketchup smears on his cheek.

'Jesus, watch it', I roll my eyes and wipe it off with a napkin. He stares at me for a moment, then grins and averts his eyes.

'I'd love to study art, you know? I'm trying to make ends meet now, but yeah, that's my dream', I slur, mindlessly devouring fries. His piercing eyes focus on me, but I don't raise my head.

'It's hard though. You have to earn to study even when you study', he points out then throws one of the chips at me. It hits my shoulder and falls to the ground.

'You're lucky it wasn't stained with ketchup, idiot', I snort, but he just laughs.

_11:12 p.m._

'Don't you have anywhere to be?', I ask as the chief screams _Where the hell's Steve?_ Where are you, though? My head starts to spin from all this alcohol and noise.

'Nope. My sister met someone and she's out of the house all the time, so', he shrugs.

'No girlfriend? Fiance?', I ask suspiciously.

'Why? Are you _interested_?', he raises an eyebrow and smirks. I throw one of the french fries at him, but he ducks, so I miss the target.

'I have a fiance, imbecile. I was just curious', I take a sip from the bottle.

'_You_ have a fiance? Then what the hell are _you_ doing here?', he widens his eyes, but there's a playful spark within.

'Like what, having a fiance bans me from going out with people? Don't make me laugh. Besides, there's probably a party in my apartment right now and I'm not in the mood ', I roll my eyes.

'You come from the bar to a party? Good luck with sleeping', he laughs, but there's something obvious about this statement as if he already knew it. Or maybe my drunk state made me develop a sixth sense.

'Hilarious until it's your reality', I sigh and finish up the bottle.

'At least it's not boring', he shrugs with an amused smile.

'As if your life was boring with this beaten up face', I snort.

'Far from it', he admits, but not without heaviness in his voice. I glance at him, but let the silence fill the air. Suddenly, my mind is filled with the images of Finn and our morning fight.

'What would I give to punch someone', I sigh after a while imagining it.

'You can always punch me if you want', he leans closer over the table as if to make the blow easier for me. I stare at him for a moment, the distance between us is almost intimidating.

'I'm not punching you', I snort and touch his cheek with my hand to push him back.

'Why?', he asks almost sadly. I smile against my will.

'Because you don't deserve it', I say not looking at him.

'The offer's still actual', he shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.

'You're an idiot', I snort, but he just grins.

_12:46 p.m._

'Oh, God, I think we need to go', I slur as I notice the watch on the wall.

'Yeah, we probably should', he rubs his eyes and gets up. I waver a bit as I do the same.

'God, I'm so wasted. I need some air', I hide my face in my hands. I can feel someone's warm hand on my back steading my insecure body.

'Let's go', he says and opens the door. I enjoy fresh air as I feel the phone buzz in the pocket of my jeans. It's Finn.

'Could you pick me up?', I slur and hang up not waiting for the answer. I text him the address or at least that's what I hope I wrote and hide the phone in the pocket.

'Where do you live?', I ask my companion. I feel dizzy, so I lean my forearms on his chest. He stiffens.

'Not far away', he says almost incomprehensibly. I wonder if he's just as drunk as me, but his wandering eyes and unsteady posture point to the yes.

'I don't even know your name', I look at him as I hear the car pulling up behind me.

'Bellamy', he says after a while of hesitation and I frown. I feel like I heard it somewhere, I just don't know where.

'Goodnight, Bellamy', I slur and back away.

'Goodnight, princess', he replies and disappears.

I barely make it to the car.

'What the hell, Clarke?', is the only thing I comprehend before I fade into the darkness.

_10:10 a.m._

I wake up with a terrible headache. It takes me a couple of minutes to recall the events of last night and I still can't remember the moment when I got home. I only know it was my dear fiance, who picked me up and I can already sense another fight coming.

I get up and take a quick shower.

'Clarke...? What are you doing here?', I hear a voice from behind as I open the frigde in the kitchen.

'Um... Living? You know, Monty, this is still my apartment', I snort and open the Nutella jar.

'It's Friday morning. Shouldn't you be working?', his confused expression starts to worry me as I try to comprehend what he just said. The jar leaves my hands and the glass breaks into million little pieces all over the kitchen floor.

'Bloody hell', I gape and freeze.

It takes me about five minutes to get ready and leave my apartment. I run as fast as I can, but it doesn't matter since I'm already so late.

'Goddamit!', I curse under my breath as I enter the building. I notice a familiar silhouette when I approach the desk inside the library.

'Where the hell have you been, Griffin?', it's John Murphy, my workmate. Not that he's really my _mate_, we just work together, but he's a pain in the neck.

'I'm so sorry, really, I don't know what happened', I lean my hands on the desk and breathe heavily. As I look up to meet his gaze I can tell that he's mad.

'You _don't know_? Lost your memory or what?', he mocks me.

'Piss off, Murphy. I overslept, okay? Can we just forget about it?', I roll my eyes, but there's a plea in my voice and he knows it.

'I _will_ tell the boss.', he finally says and I shake my head. Working in a library is the most pleasant and convenient job I'll ever be able to find in this town.

'No, Murphy, you won't', I demand, but I can already tell that this isn't going to work.

'What can you do for me, Clarke?', his voice's suddenly nice and I wonder what's the matter.

'Depends on what you want', I sigh, because the realization dawns on me.

'You'll keep your job under one condition', he says viciously.

'What is the condition, Murphy?', I grit my teeth.

'I want you... to seduce someone', he finally spits and there's silence after his words. I burst into sarcastic laughter.

'You're kidding right? It's not some cheap Hollywood movie, Murphy', I snort, but my stomach ties in a tight knot.

'There's a guy I despise. You either break his heart or I'll break yours', he replies unfazed.

'It's a thin line you walk on', I say, my voice dangerously low, my heart beating rapidly.

'It's not a joke, Griffin. Heard your fiance went to the university, huh?', he teases me and I clench my fists.

'What would you gain from this?', I ask suspiciously.

'I already told you. I hate the guy. I want him to get hurt... In a non-criminal way', he smirks.

'I... I need to think about it', I pretend to be indifferent, but it doesn't work out the way I want it to.

'You've got time 'till tomorrow morning. Think about it, Griffin, it's nothing outrageuos', he says teasingly, but it sounds ironical in his mouth.

'Who is this guy anyway?', I roll my eyes trying to regain my composure.

'You've just met him', he looks above my head with a smirk. I turn around following his gaze and freeze.

'No way, Murphy. I'm not doing this', I say quietly, my voice full of dismay, watching the familiar stranger searching through the shelves.

* * *

*** _Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot _and _Wouldn't you like to get away? _are lines from the song _Where Everybody Knows Your Name _by Gary Portnoy. I don't own the lyrics nor the song.**

**Hello! I decided to bring Clarke and Bellamy together, I hope you liked their encounter in this chapter. As to them knowing each other, I can reveal that one of them has it almost figured out and has their strong suspicions. Thank you very much for your reviews, let me know what you think about this chapter and have a great weekend!**

**PS: What do you think about Murhpy's deal? Is Clarke going to agree to his terms?**


	5. I need a hero

_Friday, November 24th_

_9:29 p.m._

'What is it, Clarke? You seem a bit off today', Nate glances at me as I check my phone, but surprisingly, there are no new messages.

'Nothing. Get to work, we've got plenty of customers', I reply quickly and raise my eyes.

'I need something strong', the brunette says and I immediately recognize her. It's Octavia.

'Your wish is my command', I grin and prepare her a drink.

'Hey, I got a question', she spits after a moment of silence filled with loud pop music blasting from the speakers.

'Shoot', I put a glass in front of her and focus my gaze on her brown eyes. Her brother has the same.

'Have you seen my brother here? The angry, commanding, possessive guy that came here for me a couple of days ago, I mean', she rolls her eyes as I smirk.

'Today? Nope. Something happened?', I ask not quite sure why.

'No, no. He disappears like this from time to time', she sighs and this statement makes me wonder. I don't have time to ask her about it though, since I notice someone getting a sit next to her.

'What can I get you...', my voice trails off as I recognize the familiar face.

'I only came here for information, the real party starts somewhere else', he grins and winks at me. I put my hands on the counter and lean closer to him in order to intimidate him.

'_You_ aren't allowed to be here, forgot it?', I hiss gritting my teeth, but Lincoln just laughs and tilts his head.

'Relax, Clarke, I just need to know if Jasper's here. I won our bet and...', he's about to start his surely fascinating story, but I interrupt him.

'I... don't... care. Got it? Jasper's not here and I think you can figure this out', I roll my eyes.

'Obviously. Alright, leaving this funeral. Gonna be at your apartment', he says and gets up.

'Careful, I might organize _your_ funeral if you keep showing up your ass here. And you better leave my place before I get there', I warn him.

'You're such a pain in the...', he shakes his head, but I interrupt him.

'Get the hell out. My house is almost as if it was yours and I might just kick you out of there', I say.

'_Mi casa es tu casa_. Or in this case it would be more like _tu casa_...', he grins trying to come up with something smarter than he is, but I don't let him.

'Lincoln', I warn him, hiding an amused spark in my voice.

'Okay, okay. See you, Griffin', he _finally_ leaves the bar and I take a deep breath to calm myself down. I swear to God, this man...

'Who is he? You live together?', Octavia looks at me with surprise.

'No, God, no. My apartment is open to anyone who loves partying as much as my flatmates. Lincoln's a friend of my fiance, so he often comes to our place leaving mess and destruction... Just kidding. But he is truly a pain in the ass', I roll my eyes.

'He sounds interesting', she says to my deepest surprise.

'No, Octavia, don't go there. He's rough, reckless, always looking for a fight... Just no', I shake my head with a grimace.

'Where do you live?', she asks innocently. My eyes widen, but before I have a chance to reply, Miller interferes.

'The Grounders street, five minutes from here, straight way, apartment building on the left. I'm sure you'll be able to pinpoint the apartment, it'll be the loudest one in the neighbourhood', he says with an amused grin.

'You're going there at your own risk, Octavia. This is my last warning', I say as she chuckles, but really, I'm not kidding.

'Relax, Clarke, I can handle myself. Thanks', she says to Nate and leaves as I gape.

'Everyone's like _relax, Clarke_, but it's me, who has to fix the mess all of you make', I spit angrily.

'Relax, Clarke', Nate says with a satisifed grin and focuses on his client.

_12:34 a.m._

I close the bar and rub my eyes. It's been a long day. I'm just hoping that the party's already over, I'm not in the mood.

I rarely ever am, but this time it's different. There's this damn Murphy on my mind. Murphy and his twisted ways of thinking.

'Hey, Clarke!', I turn around as someone shouts from the distance. I recognize the voice sooner than I see his owner's face in the darkness of the night.

'Hey, what's up? If this is about fries and beer then I'm out, I don't even remember...', I smile at the memory, but he interrupts me.

'No, no, have you seen my sister Octavia? You know, brown hair, brown eyes, about this height...', he gestures vividly, but I know her.

'What's with you two today? She came to the bar asking about you', I say amused.

'Do you know where's she now?', he asks, worry all over his face. Only seeing him makes my stomach squirm. This stupid job isn't worth my damn trouble.

'She's at my apartment', I roll my eyes.

'What...? Why?', he's confused, but the music from my apartment can be heard even here.

'Remember when I told you, I had a party everyday after work? Well, she... she went there', I sigh.

'Where do you live?', he asks resigned as if he wasn't surprised at all.

'I will tell you if you don't become our new visitor', I tilt my head.

'What?', he seems amused.

'Don't come to the parties, please. I can't sleep at night 'cause of this', I say and grin against my will knowing how I sound.

'Why are you so rude? I want some fun in my life too', he pretends to be offended, but it's just a game.

'Shut up', I turn around with a smile.

_12:36 a.m._

'So... here we are', I sigh as we enter my apartment. It's Friday, so I don't even know who most of these people are and how do they have enough room for themselves. It's not my problem, but I have to squeeze past them to find Octavia. Obviously, she dances with Lincoln.

'Lincoln!', I call his name, but he doesn't hear me. Octavia's brother stands behind me, but I can feel his tension.

'Who's this guy?', his breath tickles my ear, but his voice isn't soft.

'It's Lincoln, a friend of mine', I lie to calm him down. We're sure as hell not _friends_, but I know him, so it's not such a big lie after all.

'He's like ten years older than her, I'm going to kick his ass', he says coldly, but I turn around and block his way with my body.

'Hey, no! Look, it's nothing they're just dancing. Relax, she'll be fine', I say putting my hands on his shoulders. Monty did this to me once, he says it calms you down, but God knows. It didn't work on me though.

'Really? 'Cause if anything happens to her, you'll be responsible', he looks down to meet my eyes and my hands stiffen. I take them off of him and step back.

'You need some air. Get out. Octavia is old enough to take care of herself', I say coldly even though it's none of my business and just hours ago I had a completely different opinion. It always makes me wonder how I end up in the middle of the battlefield that isn't about my fight.

'You irritate me so much, you have no idea', he says, a shadow of a smirk gracing his features.

'Oh, really? I think I do actually, 'cause the feeling's mutual', I retort.

'You better be right about that guy', he says looking above my head.

'Or what? You're going to beat him up like someone beat _you_ up?', I ask quietly taking a step in his direction. The wounds on his face are fresh.

He's quiet and I can help but feel satisfied. It's not easy to intimidate him, to say something that'll silence him.

'Or... I'm going to come here more often and help all these people disturb your sleep', he retorts. Before I have a chance to reply, I feel his hands on my waist.

'Don't you dare', I say trying to keep my voice serious as he spins me around.

It turns out to be an unlucky dance as I feel someone's body hitting mine. The worse thing, however, is that only seconds later I feel a cold, sticky liquor all over my hair and face.

I fall into my dancing partner's arms with the force of the hit.

'Oh my God', I freeze opening my eyes. Whoever spillt the alcohol all over me didn't apologize, the world hasn't stopped and the music's still playing. I back off and notice Octavia's brother's facial expression.

'C'mon, let's get you cleaned up', he grabs my hand and we squeeze past people to the bathroom. Luckily it's not busy and I close the door behind me.

I sit on the edge of the batching tube and watch him pour the water on the towel. He gives it to me to clean my face. I don't look in the mirror, but I don't have to do it, my mascara's all over the white towel, so I suspect I look like a raccoon.

I sigh and notice him grabbing the shower and approaching me.

'Don't move, I'll get it off your hair', he says quietly, touching my hair with his free hand.

'You're saying it like it was some sort of a difficult surgery', I laugh.

'I said don't move', he repeats, but I can see a small smile on his face. Hot water washes the liquor off and I can't help but notice the gentle hand touching it and stroking.

'Done', he says and I quickly get up to take the shower out of his hand. He's too surprised to react, so he doesn't even defend himself when I turn the shower in his direction.

'Hey, hey...!', he yells, but laughs. I duck as he approaches me, but he catches my waist from behind and pulls me closer. I'm breathless.

He takes it out of my hands and pours the water on my head. I wriggle to escape, but he embraces me with one arm and the water covers my eyesight.

'Clarke...?', someone opens the door and I look up, laughing.

'We were just leaving', my torturer says trying to keep a straight face and releases me from his embrace. He turns turns the shower off. There's water all over the floor, it's a good thing I have my shoes on. It's never a good idea to walk around here barefoot.

'Yeah, Jordan. We were just leaving', I say not hiding a grin and squeeze past him grabbing two dry towels.

I go the the kitchen and throw one of the towels at him as he appears in front of me.

'You look like a raccoon in distress', he says wiping the water off of his face.

'Yeah, you look no better', I retort and use the towel to dry my face and my hair.

'I should probably go. Got some lectures tomorrow', he says after a while of silence.

'Yeah, of course. I have... I have work tomorrow', I grunt awkwardly as my mind reminds me of some ridiculous offer made by my crazy workmate.

'Thanks for helping me find Octavia', he says not without sarcasm.

'It's more like she found me', I chuckle and walk him to the door. I can feel my heart racing.

'Goodnight, Clarke', he says as I open the door. I roll my eyes behind his back at my own stupidity and decide to follow.

'Hey... Thanks for the beer, you know', I spit closing the door behind me. I take a step in his direction and kiss his cheek.

I can't believe I'm so bloody stupid.

'The pleasure's all mine', he laughs surpised and disappears.

I go back to my apartment and hit the door with my forehead.

_9:02 a.m._

'Yo, princess! Where were you at?', I roll my eyes as I hear a voice behind me.

'None of your business', I turn around approaching Murphy.

'Our lil' deal expires today, right in this moment...', his dramatic pause leaves me amused.

'No, actually, it's already expired', I reply throwing my badge at the table.

'How so, heartbreaker?', he looks at me suspiciously.

'I'm no heartbreaker, John. I'm just bad at making deals', I say softly with an ironic smile and turn around to walk away.

'You kicked yourself out?', he asks in dibelief.

'It's called voluntary termination of employment, genius. Or easier... I decided to leave your sorry ass here on my own terms', I retort and leave the building.

I've never suspected that losing a job can be such a great feeling.

_19:46 p.m._

'I left my job', I say casually as I sit with Miller at the back of the bar.

'You did _what_?', his cigarette stops on its way to his mouth. I pull it out of his hand and feel the smoke fill my lungs. I cough as he takes it from me. I don't really smoke.

'I know, it was a stupid decision, I'm and adult I should be responsible and I messed up. Is that what you were going to say?', I roll my eyes.

'Nope. I wanted to say that I'm proud of you for finally doing something for yourself', he replies and embraces me with one arm.

'I was happy, you know... But my fiance yelled at me and the visions of bailiff fill my mind every time I think about it', I snort.

'Finn's... Finn is different. Different than you', he says slowly weighing his words.

'_Different_? How so?', I raise my head to look at him.

'I just think that maybe you should... reconsider this decision, Clarke. I mean look at you. Never getting enough sleep, never having enough time, always trying to make ends meet, to _make it through_. Maybe life should be about more than just... surviving', he says quietly and there's silence after his words.

'But I love him. I love Finn', I reply almost inaudibly.

'I know, I know... But you should reconsider your engagement. I'm saying it as your friend, because I see you struggling, roaming from party to party, getting tired of life trying to change you into something you're not', he says and his words ring in my ears. I take his cigarette and put it in my mouth.

'I never even wanted to get married. I wanted to go to the university and just be an artist... But I love him. And if I back off now, I'm not sure I'll be able to fix it', I stutter and realize Nate is the only person who's seen me weak.

'But you'll be _free_', he says and silence fills the air.

'I think we have to get back to work', I hear his voice and open my eyes.

'Hey, Nate... Thank you', I say quietly as he gets up.

'Whenever you need me', he disappears behind the doors and I take a deep breath.

I check my phone and throw the cigarette on the ground.

C: I quit my job.

B: Proud of you, princess. What's next?

C: No more Aphrodite shit in my life. I'm Athena.

* * *

**Hey, guys! Sorry for this late update, I've been super busy lately. I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter, but I hope you like it. Anyway, thank you for your lovely reviews, because they literally make me fly. Let me know what you think about this chapter and have a great weekend!**


	6. Looking for Ithaca

**[_I've got to write something here since the date should be in the middle, but it basically never is..._] Enjoy!**

* * *

_Monday, November 27th_

_12:14 a.m._

I spent a weekend looking for some sensible job offers. Easy guessed, I found none, except for a babysitter and a shop assistant. First is out since I can't take care of kids, I'm just not good at it. About the second... Well. It's a shop owned by a local gang, so I'd really rather stay away from this shit.

It's loud as I enter the apartment, but to my surprise, not as loud as usual. I'm almost stunned as I notice that there are just a few people inside.

'Clarke!', I hear a familiar voice and roll my eyes. I smile at Monty as he waves at me and approach Lincoln.

'What?', I look around trying to find my fiance, but he's nowhere to be seen.

'Why you gotta be so cold? I heard you lost your job', he remarks innocently as if I didn't know it.

'Quit it actually. What's your point? Where's Finn?', I lean my back against the wall opposite him.

'My point is that I got something downtown', he smirks, but it doesn't impress me.

'I don't need you to take care of my professional life. Where's my fiance?', I demand and enter the kitchen. I open a bottle of beer as he stands in front of me with a grimace.

'How do I know? Somewhere. Went on some party with his uni buddies, who cares', he rolls his eyes and pulls the beer out of my hand.

'Really? Didn't tell me', I say and it comes out more vulnerable than I expected. He never told me about any _uni friends_. Or parties. Or that he'd spend the night somewhere else.

'Yeah, whatever, anyway... You're not interested? At all?', he changes the subject indifferently and it irritates me.

'What is it? A hitman? Gang member? Drug dealer? 'Cause I'm not about to spend the rest of my life in jail', I mock him and cross my arms.

'That hurt', he says clearly offended.

'It was just a joke. Spit it out', I roll my eyes and sigh. His grimace turns into a satisfied smile and it makes me suspicious.

'Fight club', he says after a while of dramatic pause and I'm stunned. I burst into laughter, but his expression's far from amused.

'Are you fucking sane? I told you I'm not about to go to jail', I snort angrily and pass him, but he grabs my forearm.

'Clarke, listen! Listen to me... It's huge money, just a few fights a month. Total anonymity, no police, no cameras, no security guards...Clarke...!', he yells, but I already open the front door.

_1:00 a.m._

'Clarke...?', I hear a familiar voice as I lean on a shop's wall smoking a cigarette.

'What the hell are you doing here at one a.m.?', I ask him and throw the cigarette to the ground.

'I could ask you the same thing', he says surprised. His eyes widen and I notice that Octavia's are literally the same.

'Yeah, then. Go ahead', I snort indifferently and pass him.

'I mean it, Clarke. Is there another party that you can't stand?', he says clearly amused, but I roll my eyes and turn around. He grabs my forearm and I sigh.

'I just... I really need... I have nowhere to go', I spit, but I don't look at him. I don't want to see pity in his eyes. There's silence after my words and I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

'What happened?', he asks softly, but it only infuriates me.

'Nothing! Nothing, I just... I have to go', I say and turn around.

'Clarke, wait! Clarke, I...', he shouts, but it's too late. My moment of weakness passed. He hesitated a second too long. Besides, I'd have to be a complete idiot to expect help from a guy whose name I don't even remember.

_11:22 a.m._

'Where have you been last night?', I ask Finn as he opens the fridge. He's been disappearing for a couple of nights a row now.

'Just a party with a couple of friends from the university', he shrugs and pulls out a jar of mayonnaise.

'God, how can you eat this', I shiver as he smears it all over a slice of bread and puts a raspberry jam on it.

'It's great when you have a hangover', he replies with a grin.

'Or maybe it's just your tongue, you know. Things taste differently in your mouth from the excessive amount of alcohol you probably drank last night', I snort.

'What's the matter, Clarke?', he sighs.

'Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you didn't tell me you were out for a night? Again?', I unconsciously go from muttering to screaming.

'Like you tell me what you do during the day or night!', he retorts. I notice Monty quietly entering the kitchen. Seriously though, I feel sorry for him and Jasper, it's almost everyday that they have to listen to us fighting.

'I don't have to tell you, 'cause I am in our bloody bedroom in case you haven't noticed. I work the entire day, since _you _cannot pay our bills', I clench my teeth.

'You work for the entire day? Don't even make me laugh, I know you left the library', he snorts and I burst into sarcastic laughter.

'Oh, God, do you even hear yourself? You're allowed to study, but the fact that I got fed up with the bloody job is too much? I worked for days and nights to cover the bills _you_ couldn't pay', I retort.

'What's the issue here then? Go to the damn university', he yells exasperatedly.

'Wanna land on the street? 'Cause Jasper and Monty have already paid a few of our bills and it's a short way to the gold concrete', I snort.

'I am _looking_ for a job, okay? Why are you so damn stressed about it?', he grimaces.

'No, sure, let's just give up on working and wait for the bailiff to kick us out. Such an amazing idea, how could I not figure it out earlier?', I snort sarcastically and leave the kitchen.

_7:12 p.m._

'Hey, is Lincoln at your place?', I raise my head to see a familiar face.

'No idea', I shrug and place a glass in front of a client sitting next to her.

'He said he's got some business today', she says, but I don't really care about Lincoln nor his daily schedule.

'Yeah, I bet he does', I snort remembering his job offer. Maybe he even fights there himself.

'What do you mean?', she asks suspiciously. Oh, no, she starts to care about him a little too much.

'Nothing, it's Lincoln. He's probably somewhere downtown caught up in a fight in some dirty den with strippers all around', I snort harshly.

'Oh... What does he even do for a living?', she asks faking indifference.

'Lincoln? Used to work as a security guard, martial arts instructor, I don't know, many things', I shrug, because he's the last person I want to talk about right now. Well, truth be told, second to last.

'But what is he doing right now?', she demands and I sigh.

'You've got to ask him yourself, Octavia. We're not really... _friends_', I frown at the thought.

'Oh, that's strange, 'cause he said that you are indeed', she retorts with a smirk and I roll my eyes smiling against my will.

'You should find yourself some other stuff to do than chasing him around the town', I snort.

'Me? Chasing him? You're kidding right?', she shakes her head with a smirk and leaves the bar. She's truly a mystery to me.

_9:22 p.m._

'Can I ask for your attention, ma'am?', I raise my head just to see someone I'd really rather not meet. At least not for another one hundred years or so.

'Drop the facade', I sigh and lean my hands on the counter.

'I really need your attention. Literally', he replies, this time seriously and I frown.

'Is this some sort of a twisted game? 'Cause I'm working in case you haven't noticed', I roll my eyes. Really though, what is it with people that they think I can do basically anything while working in a bar? Damn it, I should stop talking to anyone who comes here privately, I'm not a seer nor a fortune-teller and I sure as hell am not a therapist.

'Clarke, please. I need your help', he says covering my hand with his.

'What is it?', I hiss exasperatedly.

'Could you... help me?', he mutters, this time quietly, with less force. I frown as he tries to get up. He's injured.

'Easy', I take his arm and throw it around my neck. There aren't many clients today, so I help him get to the back of the bar. There's a little room with back door which Miller usually uses for his daily smoking rituals, but he's not working today.

'What the hell', I mutter as he sits down on the cold floor. I kneel next to him as I notice a scrap of a skin on his stomach under his t-shirt. I raise it and my eyes widen at the sight.

'What did you do?', I mumble, but I don't really expect the answer.

'I'm an idiot', he says and closes his eyes.

'What do you expect me to do here? Your stomach is literally purple, you probably damaged some of the internal organs, you have to go to the hospital. I'm not a doctor', I shrug helplessly.

'I can't. I can't go to the hospital', he replies quietly, but I'm not sure he's conscious anymore. I don't even know whether he has any other injuries and he probably won't tell me.

'Look at me', I say taking his face in my hands. He opens his eyes.

'I'm so sorry... for yesterday. I didn't know you were... lost', he mutters, his head heavy in my hands.

'I'm not lost. But you are. God, what am I supposed to do with you?', I snort. He leans his head on the wall behind him.

'Have mercy on me and hear my prayer*', he replies with a faint smile and I roll my eyes.

'Lie down', I order and help him with it. I bite my lower lip and take off my jacket to give it to him as a pillow. I almost feel sorry for him, but then I look at his stomach and grit my teeth.

'I'll give you some ice and a place to sleep for tonight. God, look at you', I sigh and put ice cubes wrapped in a plastic bag on his stomach.

'But look at me... Oh, what a mess**', he muses and closes his eyes. I get up with a shiver.

'I get caught up in the things that matter the least**', I sing quietly and leave him.

_8:12 a.m._

N: WHAT THE FUCK, CLARKE? WHO IS THIS GUY SLEEPIN IN OUR STOREROOM?!111111111

C: Has your keyboard blocked? All these capital letters and question marks

N: THERE ARE ALSO EXCLAMATION MARKS IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED AND NO, IT HASN'T BLOCKED. WHAT THE HELL

C: Calm down, Nate. I know him. Besides, what are you doing there this early?

N: DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT. OF COURSE U KNOW HIM, I KNOW HIM TOO, BUT IT DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING

C: Look, Nate, the guy needed a place to sleep.

N: Since when are you so good, eh? Consider becoming a social worker or shit, Griffin.

C: Relax, Jesus. It's just a night.

N: WELL THE NIGHT HAS ENDED AND I'M NOT JESUS

C: Back on your caps lock phase?

N: You're screwed.

C: You don't even work this early, just leave the bar, goddamit.

N: I swear to God, Clarke, I swear to God.

_6:06 p.m._

'Hey, Clarke', I turn around only to see Lincoln. He leans on the door frame of my bedroom with a frown.

'Have you moved in or what? I've been seeing you more often than my fiance for the last few days', I snort, but he grins.

'No, I wouldn't do that to you... Anyway... Sorry for what I said you know... Fight club, such a ridiculous idea, I know, I know... I just thought, 'cause you know, you've had that self-defence course, you helped me with that martial arts instructor job... And it's quite some money. Don't get me wrong... I don't want you to get hurt or something, I just thought it would be worth your time', he shrugs apologetically and turns around. I sigh.

'Lincoln, wait. I've had some tough times lately. It's not really about you, I just don't think it's a good idea. I don't want to go to jail and you should stick to the life outside cell too', I say with a frown.

'You're not stupid and you're right. It's illegal. But in a town like ours...? I don't fight there anymore though', he replies firmly.

'I must say I'm surprised. What happened? Did you get caught? 'Cause you know, the last time we, or rather you, did something illegal, you got caught', I smirk at the memory.

'I didn't get caught this time, even though my lucky charm Clarke Griffin wasn't with me. Oh... right, car racing... Old times', he grins as I roll my eyes with a smile.

'I did some dumb things when I first met you, let's face it, but you've got to admit, we never got caught back then and I was your lucky charm indeed', I sigh with relish. It's not appropriate to reminiscence such an incriminating chapter in my life, but those are my golden memories.

'Good old days... Without Finn', he winks at me and I roll my eyes smiling against my will.

'Shut up', I retort.

'Am I forgiven?', he asks, his voice hesitating between mockery and seriousness.

'You shall not ask me for forgiveness again, for all have sinned***', I reply solemnly.

'And fall short of the glory of God***', to my surprise, he finishes the sentence, but before I have a chance to reply, he disappears.

_12:26 a.m._

I hear footsteps behind me as I walk home from work. It turns out, however, that I don't have to guess my follower's identity as his voice reveals it.

'I was given a place to stay last night', he says and I don't slow down. I may be cruel, since I know his current health condition, but I don't care. His very presence reminds me of my humiliation and I can't be stuck in the same place anymore.

'I bet you didn't deserve it', I snort.

'No. But I met someone. I know she thinks I'm trouble and she's right. I wish I could go back in time and I know what she'll say', he says quietly with amusement.

'It's impossible. And unnecessary', I spit indifferently, but my heart beats wildly.

'Why didn't you come home?', he asks trying to provoke me and I slowly shake my head.

''Cause I'm the only one you know in the world that won't be home****', I reply quietly, hiding my trembling voice.

'Can we go back and pretend it's a different night?', he asks and I stop.

'We can't. But don't worry about me', I say with amusement, but truth be told, it sounds fake in my lips.

'Is it a usual thing you say to strangers?', I can hear him just metres from me.

'Only if they don't act like ones', I retort and turn around to face him.

'I was offered a place to stay the other night. I want to return the favor', he says stretching his hand in my direction.

'It wasn't a favor, you have no debt to be paid', I reply harshly.

'Come with me, Clarke. Please', he says, but I smile humourlessly.

'I was weak. But I am not anymore', I reply remembering my short, powerless moment. But that's the thing about moments, they pass and they never come back.

'Should I ask you for forgiveness?', he asks as I walk away. His voice's filled with mockery, but there's a strange tone to it.

'Ask Eleos', I retort with a smile playing on my lips. I should seriously thank Bellamy, he's the reason I've started digging into Greek mythology. As it turns out, it's useful when you want to get rid of strangers following you around the town.

If only strangers were really just strangers.

_12:40 a.m._

'Finn!', I shout as I notice him in the living room. There's about a dozen people in our apartment and I'm finally able to pinpoint my fiance's location.

It turns out, however, that he's not alone.

'Hey, Clarke... This is...', he points awkwardly at the girl next to him.

'Raven Reyes', she interrupts him confidently and reaches out her hand.

'Clarke Griffin', I shake it trying not to show my confusion. She seems nice, but the vibes I get from Finn- not so much.

'We met at the university. Raven studies to become a mechanic', he says as she grins.

'Oh, really? That's awesome', I reply glancing at her cautiously.

'Yeah, I know', she says, her smile wide, her eyes shining.

'Have you seen Lincoln? I've got to talk to him', I ask Finn after a moment of awkward silence. I can't believe I'm using Lincoln to get away from my own fiance.

'He's in the kitchen', he replies unfazed as if he didn't sense my unease.

'Thanks', I disappear and grab a bottle of beer from the kitchen counter.

'What is it with you, Clarke?', he asks amused and takes it out of my hands, but I get it back.

'Nothing', I spit as he watches me suspiciously.

'Did you meet Raven? She's pretty cool if you ask me', he says lightly.

'I didn't ask you', I retort and take a sip of the liquor.

'Someone's got jealous real fast', he mocks me and I roll my eyes.

'I'm not jealous', I snort.

'Maybe you should be', he says innocently.

'Will you shut up? Go find Octavia or just get gone', I mutter angrily.

'I was just kidding, Clarke. Did she ask about me?', he demands suddenly curious.

'I don't know, maybe', I shrug indifferently.

'You are truly a friend', he snorts and leaves. I sip the beer and pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans.

C: Is there a goddess of seduction?

B: Do you need one? Because there is. Peitho.

C: No, I actually need her gone from my life.

B: What happened to no more Aphrodite drama?

C: It started again with Peitho on the horizon.

B: You're such a picky goddess. You cannot reside atop Olympus with just Prometheus by your side.

C: Look at you, Momos.

B: I was just trying to help.

C: I don't need help. I just don't get it. Why was there a goddess of seduction?

B: To make life more interesting.

C: You're horrible.

B: How can you judge me so harshly if you don't know me, princess?

C: I wish I did know you.

B: Woah, why is that? Some pretty invective coming my way?

C: No, actually. You seem like the only sane person I know. Or technically... don't know.

B: I'm sure we'll meet someday, princess. We're basically destined to meet.

C: Like this myth about halves?

B: Yeah, pretty much. You just have to find your Ithaca first. Then you can search for your other half.

C: How can you know that I'm looking for my Ithaca?

B: Aren't we all?

* * *

**I made it through the week, thank God. Hope your week was better than mine and also, that this chapter will start a great weekend for all of you. Raven a.k.a Peitho will surely make Clarke's life more interesting, but you'll also find out about Bellamy's job and I've got planned plenty of BellamyxClarke scenes in the upcoming chapters, so I need your patience for just a little while longer. **

**As for the references...**

***_Have mercy on me and hear my prayer_\- comes from the Bible (Psalm 4:1);**

****_But look at me/Oh, what a mess/I get caught up in the things that matter the least_\- these are the lyrics from the song _Release _by Imagine Dragons;**

*****_For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God_\- comes from the Bible (Romans 3:23);**

******_'Cause I'm the only one you know in the world that won't be home_\- are the lyrics from Pink's song _Sober_;**

**I don't own any of the references.**

**I'd really appreciate if you let me know what are your thoughts on this chapter and thank you VERY much for each and every review. Have a lovely weekend!**

**PS: What is the relationship you prefer? Clarke &amp; Bellamy's friendship on the phone or their intense real-life ever-changing relation? I'd love to know your opinion.**


	7. I was an angel

_Friday, December 1st_

_8:22 p.m._

I took a day off today. I decided to visit my mum and when I came back to this town I realized just how haunting it truly is. Maybe I should move out. My mum says I can live with her, but I don't wish to.

It's raining as I stroll through empty streets. No one dares to come out of their cosy, graffiti-covered, old buildings to see the starless night. The storm is coming and I'm on my way home. It's just a pity that I don't have any hoodie or umbrella. Lincoln used to say I'm not made of sugar, but I'm not a fan of this sort of poetic and tragic-looking strolls, where you feel like an actress in a drama movie, a girl who lost the love of her life, someone watching their life fall apart. I don't like walking in rain, because I feel like all of these people at once and it's not beautiful or dramatic, it's pathetic and haunting, not to be able to distinguish your tears from the drops of rain.

'Hey, Clarke...!', I hear a familiar female voice from the distance and it makes me raise my eyebrows. I turn around only to see someone running in my direction.

'What are you doing here?', I ask the girl as she approaches me swiftly. It's no other than Raven Reyes, the future mechanic, my fiance's uni friend, who also happens to be the goddess of seduction. _Well_, the last one might just be a bit far-fetched and biased...

'I've been trying to reach Finn, but he doesn't answer his phone', she breathes out and moves her face towards the pouring rain to cool down.

'Yeah? And what's the matter?', I ask indifferently. I wish I knew whether they meet often, what they talk about and whether they're really friends. I decide to ask about something else instead, since I'm not fond of the idea of her discovering my insecurities. She looks as if she had none.

'His mate, the one with whom Finn's doing that project is sick and basically dying, so I figured that we could do it together', she shrugs with a grin.

'_Basically dying_?', I repeat with disbelief. She must be joking.

'I was just kidding', she laughs. She is indeed joking, what an odd sense of humour.

'If you really need to see him, come with me', I hide a sigh and walk away with her following me. I can't believe I've just made it all easier. I don't even know what _easier _means, or who is it easier for, but I have this feeling that my gut already knows.

_8:34 p.m._

'Clarke, hey! I found a job', I notice Finn with his mobile in one hand and a bottle of some mysterious liquor, my bet's on the beer. I approach him as his wide grin turns to surprise seeing the person behind me.

'Yeah, what kind of a job?', I ask not letting them start a conversation. I might be rude, but the fact that my lazy fiance actually got to work seems more important than some project, about which I know nothing since Finn hadn't even mentioned it to me earlier.

He, however, looks busy watching Raven talk to Octavia, who happens to be in our apartment too. I wonder if her brother's with her, but I quickly shake my head to get rid of this thought.

'I'll be organizing some upcoming events at our campus', he replies excitedly and I can't help but smile. _Finally_.

'I'm proud of you. What's the salary?', I ask amused. His excitement is quite concerning considering his general apathy regarding any sort of work, but nevertheless I'm glad he's found one.

'Salary...? I'll work as a volunteer, Clarke', he replies as if it was obvious. He kisses my forehead and disappears to talk to Raven. I turn around stunned and follow him with my gaze.

'Finn's found a job', I hear a voice behind me and it reveals its owner. Monty.

'Yeah. As a volunteer', I say slowly tasting these words in my mouth. I don't know whether to laugh or cry, so I just grab a bottle of beer and take a sip.

'He's always had a heart of a volunteer', Monty says and I'm not sure if it's irony or just a normal statement.

'And a head of a fool', I reply and lock myself in our bedroom. Luckily, it's empty.

It's been some time since I painted anything and I feel like it's going to be quite a long night.

_3:02 p.m._

I sit on our balcony, my legs on the balustrade, soft sun shining on my face. It's almost like heaven. Almost.

I hear a laughter from inside the apartment. It's Raven's. She and Finn are doing some sort of a project or God knows what together and they decided to meet up in our apartment.

For the last two hours I've been trying to find my peace with a book and a cup of hot tea, but it's impossible with these two around.

'Got any dinner?', Monty appears on the balcony in front of me, covering the sun. I get up from the old, wooden and extremely uncomfortable chair and sigh.

'No. Got any ideas?', I ask him resignedly, narrowing my eyes. It's December and the sun's going crazy with all these warm days full of sunshine.

'I'd say... Pizza', he grins and I smile too.

'Sure. Any party planned today?', I ask cautiously. I'm not working today, since we're changing the furniture in the bar and I want to know whether to look for some other place to stay for the evening or not. Monty pulls off a disgusted grimace which makes me laugh. Jasper's more or an animal party than Monty who hates these night libations as much as I do. Or even more, since I've been quite pleased with them when we started organizing them a couple of mounths ago. He's never been a fan of this idea and soon I understood why.

'I think so. This time Finn organizes one for his university friends', he shrugs.

'What about you? Got any plans?', I ask with a smile knowing that he won't really tell me.

'I'll try to stay away from my own apartment, you know, just what normal people do', he says with a soft smile playing on his lips, but something about this statement makes me shiver. Because that's obviously not what normal people do.

'Maybe we should move out, what are you saying? Leave these two idiots here', I snort.

'I'm all in', he replies with a grin.

'What's the date?', I ask playfully, but there's more than just a joke to it.

'We should move out as soon as possible. Tomorrow?', he looks at me as if he was thinking hard on this one.

'Then it's all settled', I nod and he laughs. If only it was all so easy.

A laughter breakes the silence and it's not ours. Monty looks at me with unease and some sort of compassion and it leaves me tense.

_7:19 p.m._

I notice Octavia as I enter the apartment. I've been trying to find myself some sort of an activity, but it's difficult in a town like this, so I decided to come here and get drunk after all. It's the only _activity_ my creative mind could come up with.

'Is your brother with you?', I ask her as she takes her eyes off Lincoln to look at me with surprise.

'No, no, he's not. Why?', her curious glance makes me shift uncomfortably. Why would he be here anyway?

'Nothing, just curious', I shrug, but her eyes scan me still.

'That's strange, 'cause he asked me today why you're not at the bar', she says with a satisfied smirk.

'We're just... I mean...', I grunt, because it turns out to be difficult, to actually define the status of our relation. She's about to comment on this fact, but Lincoln interferes. He looks at Octavia with clear admiration and it takes him a while to utter anything.

'You should relax, Clarke. Finn's surely somewhere around here', he shrugs and takes Octavia's hand to drag her on the dancefloor. Before they disappear, she gives me a smirk and I feel an intense heat all over my face.

Because it wasn't my fiance that I was looking for. And she knows it. I take a sip of a mysterious liquor and lean my head on the wall with a sigh.

_9:01 p.m._

I'm too drunk to count the people currently occupying my apartment, but there's a hell lot of them here. It's quite early, but I've already had too many drinks.

I lean my hands on the kitchen counter and take a deep breath. I notice something on the counter, even though my vision is a bit blurred. I raise it with my trembling fingers and frown.

'Lexa's fight club, Grounders street, Indra's bar', I read it loud and grimace.

'It's the address of the fight club, sorry, I must have left it here when I...', Lincoln takes it out of my hands.

'Does Octavia know?', I interrupt him.

'No. But I don't fight there anymore', he says firmly and leaves the kitchen.

_I don't fight there anymore... because of her._

Oh, what love does to people.

It makes me smile though, seeing Lincoln change like that. He might still be overshadowed by his past and defects, but I see him chasing Octavia, watching her almost as if he was her guard.

_9:44 p.m._

'Finn, hey, Finn!', I shout as I spot my fiance entering the apartment. He's not alone, but I don't care.

'Clarke, oh, hey...', he utters and looks at me awkwardly. Raven disappears and leaves us alone.

'Where have you been?', I ask him tilting my head. I barely hear my own voice, the music's so loud.

'What do you care? You're drunk. You're always drunk', he says with disgust and I feel as if I just got hit in my stomach and the blow took my breath away.

'What the hell? _I_ am always drunk? At least I'm not cheating on you', I spit breathlessly. My head's spinning from the alcohol, but his words are sharp in my mind.

'What...? I'm not cheating on you, sober up, Clarke', he rolls his eyes and tries to pass me in the hallway, but I block the way with my body.

'Obviously and you two are just friends who miraculously happen to spend every free second together? I'm not an idiot', I snort.

'It's you who's always gone. You're never around', he retorts and it makes my blood boil.

'And that's a legitimate reason for you to cheat on me, right? Our engagement is a damn joke', I spit and it satisifes me a little, to see hurt in his eyes.

'I didn't cheat on you, Clarke, you're delusional! I didn't know it meant so little to you, I shouldn't have proposed to you then', he retorts and it makes my eyes water.

'I shouldn't have accepted it. Unfortunately, I didn't know you were such a jerk back then', I snort.

'I didn't know you're fucking frantic', he says and I'm numb. I want to reply, but I feel as if the air was sucked out of my lungs. I lean my hand on the wall and notice Finn's expression.

'I'm sorry, Clarke, I didn't mean to...', he says, his voice sorrowful and truly regretful, but I can't look at him.

'Get out of my way', I growl and leave before the tears start rolling down my cheeks.

It's raining outside and I have no jacket, no umbrella. I also have no home, which might turn out to be more problematic as I have nowhere to go. It's pathetic and haunting, the way my tears mix with the rain, but I raise my head to face the evening sky. There's some sort of relief in it, almost purification. It's strange though, the way things change. It's always been a rocky road with Finn. We were never a perfect match, Lincoln used to say that he'd make a better partner for me than Finn. It was just a joke, obviously, but Finn's truly different than me.

I stumble a few times as my balance's disturbed.

_You're drunk. You're always drunk_.

Maybe Finn's right after all. Maybe I should've done something to change my life, but it's hard, it's hard, when everyone's busy with their own lives, trying to escape this reality. I was reckless some time ago, I enjoyed all this turmoil, but it's got too overwhelming, too consuming.

My mind gives me a quick flashback of the time a few days ago, when Lincoln sent me an address of Octavia's house, 'cause he needed someone to pick him up. I check my messages and find it. It's just a few minutes from where I'm standing, but I'm not even certain I'm going in the right direction.

I take a deep breath as I reach my destination. My head's spinning, I'm cold and wet, but there's no going back now.

I knock on the door and wait a few heartbeats before they open revealing a familiar face.

'Clarke...?', his surprised expression makes my stomach squirm.

'Will you let me in?', I utter looking in his dark brown eyes. Octavia's are the same.

* * *

**So. I know it's quick and unexpected, but I got inspired and here it is. I can say that there'll be some stuff coming up in the next chapter that involves Bellarke, but there are a couple of twists and I hope you'll like it. **

**PS: Thank you 1234grace for your critique, it helped me a lot. I tried to fix it this chapter, I hope it was all much clearer. **

**PS2: Let me know what you think of this chapter! **


	8. Apollo's goddess

**Hi there, just wanted to say that this chapter's written from Bellamy's point of view as it could be confusing. Enjoy!**

* * *

I stare at Clarke with such a shocked expression, she probably thinks I got a heart attack.

Well, actually I'm not positive if I surely didn't.

'Clarke, I... Yes', I utter as my mind flashes me a vivid memory of meeting her a couple of nights ago. I won't make that mistake again, especially since she looks as if she'd just witnessed her life fall apart.

I back off to let her in and close the door. She's wet and shaking probably form the awful cold outside, but God knows what she's been through to get to this state.

She stubbornly gazes at the floor and refuses to raise her eyes. I notice that she's gripping her elbow tightly with her other hand and scratches it furiously.

'I'll... make you a tea. I just need to know how much sugar to put in it', I say a bit uncertainly after a moment of awkward silence, a smile breaking my frown. Her face erupts into a blossoming smile, but she wipes her cheek off as if to get rid of the invisible traces of tears.

'I don't sugar', she says, her voice strangely unstable and even though it's such a trivial thing, she seems to attach some sort of importance to it, as if not adding sugar to a tea made her crazy or weird. Or was somewhat funny. In a very tragic way, looking at her broken expression. It's such a grotesque situation, I run my fingers through my hair and grunt quietly.

'Just take off your jacket, you're going to flood my entire house', I sigh with an exaggerated irritation and her face is lit with a shy smile.

'You know what? It's better that you don't sugar it, I don't even have sugar', I snort amused as I search through the kitchen shelves. I should've told O to buy some since she spends so much time outside lately.

I snort internally at my sister's adventures. She's so infatuated with Lincoln, asking her to buy some sugar seems like a damn profanation. Even her own brother's useless at this point.

'I don't even have any lemon... Allright, you know what, I'll just make you a mint tea', I chuckle and frown immediately after, realizing that I got no response whatsoever.

I leave the cup on the kitchen counter and enter the hallway.

'Clarke...?', I glance at the living room. I've been gone for around ten seconds and she's already found the most awkward thing there is in this house at the moment.

A wooden table. With a white tablecloth and a porcelain tableware. Red roses in a vase add a trashy charm to it and two newly bought candles serve as an emergency in case there was no light.

Just kidding. They're supposed to make it all more romantic and climatic. At least that was what my light-hearted sibling had assumed in her truly touching vision of a romantic dinner.

Clarke looks at it all stunned and I wonder what she thinks of me right now and I smirk.

'I didn't know you're busy tonight... I'm sorry, I... I'll go now', she stutters and a smile leaves my face, a surprised expression appearing faster than my senses.

She's already in the hallway, grabbing her jacket with her hands shaking so uncontrollably it almost escapes her grip. A moment has to pass for me to regain my composure and my brain.

'Are you kidding me? Clarke...', I smile a bit too softly for a girl who keeps challenging me, but I can't help it. She sighs and raises her head to glance at me, this time with a sudden rush of bravado.

'Look, I don't want to interrupt your night with my senseless appearance, which truth be told, is completely out of place. I know I act frantically and quite frankly, I think you might just kick me out for freaking out, but I thought you could, I don't know, fucking not let me down again or something', she spits bitterly and it leaves me astounded for a moment.

She frowns with a resigned expression written on her face and turns around.

'Wait', I sigh and grab her forearm.

'I don't want to be the girl that knocks on the door at ten thrity p.m.', she says quietly and it somewhat makes me amused and bothered at the same time.

'Then don't knock and just open the door. I'm not waiting for anyone if that's what you assumed. It's O's stupid idea, she wanted to invite Lincoln, but then decided that it was too cheap, so they went to some strip club or worse, probably', I explain with an annoyed snort.

'Lincoln's changed', she says almost defensively and I smirk. I won't let her change the subject, when she's a wreck herself.

'Just come inside. I've already made you a mint tea, which I can't stand, so _you_'ll have to drink it instead', I reply and grip her arms with both of my hands as if to comfrot her, but she gazes at the floor, hopelessly.

'I hate mint tea too', she utters and it makes me laugh. Before I have a chance to think about it, I wrap my arms around her, one of my hands resting on the back of her head. She doesn't stiffen or tighten. She doesn't return the hug either.

'You'll have to find a way to deal with it', I whisper playfully in her hair and back away.

'If I must', she shrugs nonchalantly and sniffs.

_11:40 p.m._

I watch her as she sits comfortably in a chair in my living room with a cup of tea between her tremblig hands. Her legs are tucked up to her chest, the cup resting on her knees. She looks pretty cute with this, unlike her usual cold and unreachable demeanor, it surprisingly suits her. Or actually, she _would _look pretty cute... if it wasn't for her quivering hands and raspy voice and exhaustion deep in her eyes as if they were about to look this fatigued forever.

'You should consider drinking this tea, you know. It probably got cold already', I snort as I notice her fingertips going white from gripping it too tightly. I sit opposite her, so it's hard to avoid staring at her, not that I try too much to do so.

She eventually looks back which sort of leaves me uneasy. Her glare is piercing and I'm not sure whether she stares at me with such an intensity or she's just lost in her thoughts.

'I hate mint tea', she just says, but, nevertheless, takes a sip.

'So are you going to tell me what the hell were you doing in front of the doors of my house at ten p.m., _drunk_ and completely worn out? Or should I wait for some enlightenment to answer my questions? I don't read minds', I mock her, a bit too harshly. I'm not trying to get her out of the house, but as much as I know about her, my taunt will annoy her to the point where she tells me what on Earth is going on. At least that's what I'm counting on.

'Do you think I'm frantic?', she blurts out after a while of silence. Quite frankly, I'm surprised she asked me such a question. I expected her to fall for the taunt, to react and retaliate. She doesn't.

'No', I only reply and she laughs. I freeze. It's not a cheery, humorous laughter. It's harsh, mocking and sharp.

'No?', she repeats in a raspy manner, her breathing heavy and shallow as if it took a lot of effort for her to utter this one word, one syllabe.

I look at her incredulously as she gets up, a strange expression on her face. She throws the cup at the wall behind me. I don't bend my head, I don't even have time to do it, but the mug flies about a feet higher than my hair. I hear it crush behind me and I shiver. I'm quickly on my feet, but it doesn't make much of a difference.

'No...? How about that?', she asks, her voice louder this time. There's some sort of madness within her, but I don't fall for this trick, something must've happened for her to pull off this supposedly crazy demeanor.

'No', I say, but my voice trembles a bit. She grins in a humourless manner. My muscles tighten as I watch her turn the coffee table over with full force of her vigorous arms. The glass shatters and hundres of little pieces get stuck in the red hairy carpet.

'Tell me, am I frantic?', she asks, this time her voice balancing between amusement and anger.

'No', I say, but my jaw is clenched tightly. I wait for her to burn the entire house down, but she smiles mischievously, almost recklessly and I freeze as I notice a piece of broken glass in her hand.

I want to scream it in her face, I want to ask her and yell _Are you fucking crazy? _But it's not what I mean and I know exactly that she wants it. It's all a game, but a very convincing one, I wonder if she's truly gone mad.

'Clarke, stop', I say in a low tone taking a step forward. I have my shoes on so the glass crushes underneath my feet.

'It's all fun and games', she utters quietly and it makes me wonder.

'_This_ isn't fun and games. Stop it', I say, but before she has a chance to reply, I take the glass out of her hand, but I do it too rapidly, my moves are controlled by panic and anger. I hiss and the piece of glass escapes my hand with red stains all over it.

Her eyes widen at the sight of the cut inner side of my hand.

'I'm so sorry', she says taking it into her own hands and examining carefully, but I don't even feel the pain due to the rush of adrenaline flowing hastily in my veins.

'You're not crazy, got it? I wish you knew me, Clarke, I wish you knew what kind of man I am, but you...? _You_? You're not crazy', I say softly and it almost makes me smile, the ridiculousness of this situation. I take her face in my hands and cup her cheeks.

'What kind of man are you?', is all she asks. Her eyes are a bit glassy and I avert mine, I react too emotionally to the other person crying. Especially when this person's Clarke.

'I could show you, Clarke', it's a wrong thing to say as I watch her eyes light up with an unstoppable curiosity.

'Good. 'Cause I can't stand this mint smell any longer', she replies edgily and I take my hands off her face. My right hand leaves a red stain on her left cheek and I almost gape at the view before I realize it's my own blood.

'You're going to paint this wall', I say amused, glancing at the tea stains all over it as I leave the living room. She grunts uncomfortably, so I turn around and stretch my hand in her direction.

'The sun is shining on it as the daylight fades, so I'll use pale yellows or oranges', she replies quietly and takes my hand.

'I was just kidding, Clarke', I say averting my eyes as she grabs her jacket. She doesn't reply, which bothers me. I really don't want her to paint the damn wall, but I guess joking isn't the greatest idea around her tonight.

'Put it on, idiot. It's raining', I snort as she steps outside. I don't know what is it with me, but I can't stop myself from harsh, snarky comments as I look at her. I'm not used to her acting so recklessly, she doesn't even see that she could hurt herself. And I do.

'So what? I'm not made of sugar', she says playfully, standing opposite me, rain soaking her hair and clothes.

I step out in the rain and close the front door.

'It's about an hour of walking. But do as you wish', I shrug nonchalantly and leave her behind.

'Did you cast a spell on the night sky?', she asks almost joyfully as she catches up and I find her by my side. I glance at her, but her eyes are up, observing the stars. There's something captivating about this sight and I have to avert my eyes or I'd get lost, just looking at her.

'What do you mean?', I say dryly. I've never been a fan of this sort of so-called romantic staring, since I can't see anything beautiful in the night sky. It's just loads of stars and a moon.

I do see some beauty in the way she gazes at it as if it was a miracle, but I can't see it the way she does even though I wish I could.

'I mean... it stopped raining', she replies hesitantly after a while of silence. I guess she just needed a while to utter anything, since it's the night sky that cast a spell on her.

'You should watch your feet', I only say, but a smile appears on my face.

I could defnitely cast a spell on the night sky if she asked me to do so.

_1:06 a.m._

'We're almost there', I inform her as we find ourselves in the middle of nowhere. We keep walking for another fifteen minutes before we reach our destination. There's a sunflower field on one side of our path and a huge area of forest on the other side.

She's been quiet for the majority of our trip, I could tell that she stopped herself from asking about the destination of our walk a couple of times. The only conversation in a span of an hour was when she said she feels as if we reached a different world. It was on the border of the town where there's nothing around but infinite grassland. _Because we did_, was all that I replied.

'Will you finally tell me where we're going?', she says and it makes me smirk.

'Do your feet hurt or are you just bored?', I ask playfully.

'My feet are fine. I'm just tired of wading through the darkness', she replies dryly.

'We're here', I say after a moment of silence and glance at her.

'_Here_? Meaning where, exactly?', she asks, her voice irritated and curious at the same time. She looks pretty unimpressed, which makes me genuinely glad.

'You'll see', I only say.

She turns around to embrace the sunflower field with her blue eyes, the colour of pure ocean water on a stormy day.

I take a few steps and enter the woods, which are so dark, I almost trip.

'Clarke!', I shout excessively loudly and grin. It's suddenly light all around me and I hear an annoyed voice from the distance.

'I'm right here, you idiot, why are you shouting...', her voice trails off, so her question doesn't even sound quizzically, but she doesn't seem to care as she freezes in awe.

She stands next to me and looks around trying to comprehend the view.

'Your name lights up the forest', I say and an incredulous smile appears on her face.

'Fireflies...?', she asks and takes a few steps forward, but I just stand still gazing at her.

The woods are illuminated by the lights of a thousand little fireflies hidden safely on the leaves or hovering up in the air.

Some of them surround Clarke as she stands in the middle of a small clearing and she reaches her hands out, laughing.

'And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it*', I say as it's the only thing that comes to my mind as I stare at the blonde girl illuminated by the light of the pure nature.

'It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal*', she says and it surprises me that she knows all the Bible references I throw around and even adds her own. It makes me wonder if she's religious or just possesses such a knowledge.

She looks up to meet my gaze and smiles widely.

'My friend used to cite Bible references all the time', she shrugs as if she read my thoughts. There is some sort of melancholy and hollow joy to this statement though. I shake my head in disbelief and approach her with a smile, but the fireflies fly away from her.

'Your name and _only _your name illuminates the woods', I laugh, but she shakes her head with a mysterious smile.

'Yours would do that too. If only they knew it', she says playfully and I catch the double meaning in her statement.

If only she knew it.

_2:00 a.m._

'Don't tell me that we're coming back the same way', she says and rolls her eyes as we leave the forest.

'I won't', I smile and turn in the other direction. She's stunned for a while, then follows me quietly, until she cannot resist asking a question.

'Where are we going?', she demands and I hear no exhaustion in her voice. No wonder though, since she always goes to sleep so late on her crazy daily basis.

'We're going home. Just by a different mean of transport', I reply and she sighs exasperatedly.

'I think I'm gonna die before we get there', she says and I smile widely at the statement.

'Shouldn't have come with me', is my only answer, but said in a playful manner.

'I have nowhere to go anyway', she says really quietly, but I hear it anyway amidst the defeaning silence of the night.

'At least you sobered up before you could do anything stupid', I mock her after a while of reflection.

'About that back in your house... I'm really sorry, I was drunk and unstable...', her voice trembles a bit as she proceeds to utter the word _unstable_. I guess she must've had some tough experiences proving someone her sanity. Or she failed to do so.

'Don't. Don't apologize, it's nothing. I'm actually pretty glad you came. I have one more thing to show you', I smile and stop.

There are railroad tracks a few metres ahead of me.

'There's a train here?', Clarke gapes.

'Yeah, it exists only to drop some goods around the town, including stuff for dealers and smugglers, but no worries, there's only a driver inside and no one ever comes in', I explain.

'So you've been here before', she concludes and I nod.

'I went here once with Octavia and a couple of times on my own. I was scared that they'd catch us so I didn't want to bring her, but I've never met anyone inside. I suppose she went here on her own a few times though', I smile as my sister's the only person I know as reckless as me. And one day she'll give me a heart attack.

'But... it'll just stop to take us?', she looks at me suspiciously as I hear the sound of an approaching train from the distance.

'No... that's the best part about it', I grin, but she glances at me quizzically.

I don't have time to explain her what this _part_ is exactly about as I notice the vehicle coming even closer.

'Once it's here, you've got to start chasing it', I yell to outscream the noise of the train.

'And then what?', she shouts as I start running.

'Jump!', I scream and grip the pipe on the outside of the vehicle. There's an entrance right next to it, so I pull my legs up and jump inside. I catch my balance and turn around as I notice Clarke running next to the train. I lean and reach out my hand for her to grab, which she does. She jumps and I pull her inside, almost losing my balance.

'Oh my god', she breathes heavily sitting down, bending her knee and resting her forearm on it. Before I have a chance to say anything, she bursts into a breathless laughter.

'How was it?', I ask her taking a seat on the floor, opposite her. She leans her forehead on the outer side of her hand and takes a breath to calm down.

'It was... amazing. I felt the wind and the rush and... thank you for pulling me in', her expression turns into a wide grin.

'Next time you'll be able to do it on your own', I say and she leans her head on the metal construction behind her.

'Yeah, definitely', she replies and I wonder when she'll come back here.

'It's still dark, but you'll see the sunrise from here and it'll be amazing', I say and she smiles.

'Until then, I'm going to sleep. I need to see this beauty', she announces and I notice a spark in her eyes, she looks very much _alive_ and free and I hope she feels this way too. Her cheeks are pink, her hair tangled and she truly looks happy.

'I'll wake you up once the skies are pale', I reassure her and she nods.

'Counting on it. Morpheus can be very possessive', she yawns and laughs.

'He won't resist the beautiful Aphrodite', I reply with a lazy smile. I'm quite tired too.

'I'm not Aphrodite', she replies automatically with certain irritation and freezes immediately after.

'What?', I ask mindlessly, my brain doesn't want to cooperate with me anymore.

'What?', she looks at me with shock written all over her face and understaning dawns on me.

I only wish I could tell I am just as surprised as she is.

* * *

*****_**And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it- **_**is a Bible reference (Revelation 21:23)**

*** _It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal_\- is also a Bible reference (Revelation 21:11)**

**Firstly, I'm really sorry for this late update, life's been crazy lately. Almost as crazy as Clarke in this chapter. I've been thinking about this chapter for a long time, since I wanted it to be _special_, so I decided to be more creative (than I usually am) and write it from Bellamy's perspective. There's a lot of stuff going on and it's because I wanted to present as many things from his point of view as possible (because this sort of chapters won't happen often). **

**Clarke's very... _interesting _in this chapter, I realize, but that's what it is, her life's not fun and games and I really meant to show how messed up and exhausted she felt. (She hasn't gone mad though, no worries.)**

**PS: Songs that really inspired me to write it were _What Kind Of Man _by Florence + The Machine and _Run Away _by Leighton Meester. **

**Just thought it'd help you understand this chapter better, knowing what was the inspiration to create it. **

**PS2: I hope you liked Bellamy as in his perspective aaand let me know what you think of this chapter!**


	9. Bia's force takes me down

It's a small world we live in. We meet our friends, we forget them, we meet them again. Our soulmates appear in our dreams, leaving us with an overwhelming desire to finally meet them in person. We see people in the streets, hurrying up to save the world, but is it truly impossible that one of these strangers might just be our soulmate? I thought so when I was around five years old.

I'm twenty-one now.

And I met _him_.

'Bellamy?', I ask and it's almost unreal, the way I've never thought about his possible appearance. About his character, his behaviour when he tries to rob the shop, when he follows a stranger and shows up all beaten up. I've never thought about the way his suffering fills his dark-woods-brown eyes when he's in pain, but it never embraces his face nor his posture. About the way he asks for help, but never begs as if he could find another way without harming his dignity. I've never wondered about his sister dancing in my apartment with a fake friend of mine. About the way he holds me, spins me around and touches my waist whilst dancing.

I've never thought about it, because I didn't even know his name.

Turns out his name is a magic spell that stops the rain from soaking my clothes, illuminates the woods, evokes a train. His name means joy, relief, mystery, but most of all, trouble. I know it now and I can't help but feel ambiguous about the two sides of him I've had the chance to meet. Is he charming, ironical, humorous? Is he mysterious, harsh, inscrutable? Is he both? _Can_ he be both?

And finally, what does he think of _me?_

'Is it really you, beautiful heartbreaker?', he asks with amusement on his lips, something flickering in his eyes. And I wrap my arms around his neck, but for a moment he freezes before returning the hug. I breathe in his scent and I want to cry, because I'm exhausted, hurt and completely lost, but I feel lifted and relieved at the same time.

'Is it really you, mysterious thief?', I counter and pull back to see his face.

'You knew my name before', he blurts out unexpectedly and I frown.

'I don't think so. Perhaps Claire or Clary knew it, huh?', I joke, but he shakes his head with amusement.

'I'm not a... a ladykiller', he snorts and I chuckle.

'I don't care, Apollo', I assure him and before I realize, we're already back in the town.

'Woah, princess, hey...', I hear his concerned voice once we're outside the vehicle. His arms embrace my waist from behind and I wish I could give in.

'I'm fine', I say and touch my forehead with my palm. I try to stand steadily on my feet as he moves to stand in front of me.

'Oh, really? 'Cause you didn't look _fine_ just seconds ago, you almost fainted', he raises his eyebrows and I break the eye contact.

'I haven't slept last night', I shrug and he sneers.

'Yeah, and all the other nights before', he points out mockingly. His remarks angers me more than I thought it would.

'You think you know my life, but you're wrong, Bellamy. I'm hungry', I announce and walk by him. His fingers wrap around my forehand, forcing me to turn around and look him in the eye, which infuriates me even more. The tension between us suddenly rises, but I'm so exhausted I wish I didn't have this conversation with him right now. I already know where this is going and I'm afraid I might say something I'll regret. I'm afraid he might say something I won't like.

'I might not be with you 24/7, but I believe I do actually know a bit about your, by the way, really _fucked up_ life, princess', he retorts derisively and I pull my arm back, stunned. I feel intense heat spreading all over my face; I'm mad, ashamed and bewildered all at the same time.

'Just because we met a few times on some _very_ random occassions, only to throw snarky, rude comments at each other doesn't mean shit. You're the one with messed up life, who somehow bumps into me at _one a.m._ and gets so beaten up it's almost impossible to walk. Oh, and have I mentioned anything about your little shoplifting? Not that I care though, everyone in this town steals, robs, smuggles or does whatever shady shit they're doing. My point is... Don't judge me, because apparently, you too have some... _baggage_', I wince uncontrollably and glare at him challengingly.

'I wasn't judging you princess. I was simply stating the obvious, no need to get so upset', he only replies stoically in an ironic manner and I'm livid. It's all happening too fast, these words shouldn't be said out loud so carelessly, but here they are. And I know I'll think about them for days after they're spoken aloud.

'It seems we got caught up and somehow, I thought it was a miracle, finally meeting you in person, here. But I see it now. We're just a couple of random strangers, who decided to mess with each other's lives. You're saying my life is fucked up. Well, it might be. But you know what? I don't care. I don't care, because it's mine, it's my bloody life and I can do whatever I want with it and _you_, some goddamn stranger have no right to judge it', I say it all through clenched teeth. I'm furious, I'm fuming, I can't believe he says it so easily: your life is fucked up. He could as well said: _you, Clarke Griffin, are fucked up. Sorry, that's just what I see when I meet you in the middle of the night smoking a cigarette, when I see you coming home to a fiance you no longer love, when I see you living a life you've never wanted to have._

The worst thing is though, that he'd be right. He _is_ right.

I wish I wasn't so proud, I wish I could admit it, even to myself.

And this thought haunts me when I come back home, without another word spoken to Bellamy, alone in the noon. It takes me a while to get there, the railway station's far from the area I live in.

'Octavia...? Oh, Lincoln... Hey', I mutter when I enter the kitchen in my flat. Lincoln makes a sandwich with Octavia sitting (like, literally-sitting) on his back. She has her legs wrapped around his hips, her arms around his neck, her head is resting on his shoulder. She raises her head and grins at me as Lincoln freezes, his sandwich halfway to his mouth.

'Where the hell have you been, Clarke?', he looks at me incredulously.

'I'm sorry, but where the hell have you been, Lincoln? In _my _apartment? For the entire night?', I counter and he literally shrinks, but Octavia laughs.

'I was waiting for your arrival', he excuses himself defensively.

'Mhm. Nevermind. Is there anything left to eat?', I ask hopefully, but they both shake their heads simultaneously and I sigh.

'I'll order a pizza', Lincoln quickly says tilting his head. We've known each other for years and I'm glad he can sense my mood so faultlessly. He doesn't ask unnecessary questions, he knows how I feel and what I need. He knows where the line is and he doesn't cross it. I might be mad at him ninety percent of the time, but the truth is, we _do _have a certain form of a bizarre relation, in which we both know each other perfectly.

'Nate called around fifteen times', Octavia informs me, still attached to Lincoln's back, when he makes an order via his cell phone.

'Oh, whatever, he probably just wanted to tell me that I'm fired. I haven't shown up at the bar today', I explain and burst into laughter. It's so weird to just... laugh so carelessly at something so serious.

Octavia gazes at me incredulously for a moment, but doesn't say anything before, finally, a grin appears on her pretty face.

'Clarke!', I turn my head to notice Monty entering the kitchen with a beam.

'Oh, how everyone missed me', I chuckle, but it feels oddly touching to have all these people I somehow care about gathered in my kitchen, having expressed their happiness, because of _my _arrival. And here I though no one really gave a shit about me in this house.

I guess I just had to disappear for a night and there they go, all concerned as if I decided to actually leave this place, this life, these people.

And for the first time ever it occurs me that in spite of the incredulity of such a possibility, it'd be without a doubt, a drastic (and possibly _positive_) change.

It's a weird thing though, that such a thought appeared after such a warm welcome.

'Would you still bear with me if I left? Not for a night, generally', I add quickly in a humorous manner, but they still seem not to comprehend my question.

'You're moving out?', Octavia breaks the silence, her voice curious, but unbelieving.

'No, no... Not yet at least', I smile faintly.

'Of course she is. We've settled it all before, right, Clarke?', Monty winks at me, but the way he stares at me makes me wonder whether he joked or not.

'Yeah, we have... Where's Finn though?', I ask lightly, but seeing their concerned faces makes my guts squirm. I notice pity in their eyes and I wish I didn't ask that question. Now I know at least what they think of me and my fictional engagement.

Not that it wasn't obvious before, but apparently, I was too busy losing myself in the bottle of vodka or whatever shit I drank on those crazy parties organized by the man who calls himself my fiance. Truth be told, I've been working a lot too, but who says you can't get lost trying to make ends meet? Still, Finn considers me a drunkard, which might haunt me tirelessly the next time I decide to have a drink.

I find it oddly disgusting though, the power he has over me, the way his words can change my own perception of myself.

'He's... gone somewhere... around four a.m., after you... didn't show up', Monty explains softly, which only angers me.

'So it's my fault now? Tell me, guys, how many times has he been gone for a night? This is bullshit', I snort and turn my head to look out of the window. I don't want them to see the hurt in my eyes.

'No one's saying it's your fault, you asked a question, you have your answer. He probably went somewhere with that new friend of his, Murphy or something', Lincoln shrugs impassively, but this information makes my eyes widen.

'_Murphy_? John Murphy? He's studying with Finn?', I gaze at them puzzled.

'God knows what he's doing, the guy's shady as fuck', Octavia rolls her eyes and shrugs. Lincoln glances at her disapprovingly and she looks at him with an aggressive: _what? I only said what we all had in mind _on her face.

Their wordless exchange is interrupeted by the arrival of a pizza man. We eat in silence and before I realize, all of them are gone from the house.

I go to my bedroom and check my cell phone automatically as if the nightly discovery didn't happen. But it did and there are no new texts from someone, whose face I've known for weeks.

I wake up feeling someone's glare pointed at me. It's not a pleasant sensation, but when I open my eyes I do feel a certain dose of happiness. Something that used to fill me whenever I saw that face, a mix of happiness, security and love. Now most of it is gone, replaced by resentment and bitterness.

'Where the fuck have you been last night?', Finn demands coldly, leaning on the doorframe. It's a pose, I can see his muscles tight and tense, ready to fight.

'I could ask you the same question, Finn', I counter in the same manner and get up to face him. I hate people towering over me in the middle of an argument. It gives them a physical advantage.

'You've been gone for the entire night! I know you weren't at the bar, Miller got worried and called me, so...? Where were you, Clarke?', he repeats the question a bit suspiciously, a bit worriedly.

'I'm not going to explain myself. Apparently, you've never had to and yet you have the audacity to demand it from me. It's called hypocrisy', I sneer. I feel deep, thick layers of well-seated fury awakening, giving me strength and drive to crush everything around me.

'For fuck's sake, Clarke! I'm trying to make things right between us', he yells and I take a step back.

'Do you even hear yourself? I'm the one who've been trying to fix this shit for _weeks_ while you organized all those drinking bouts, befriended people about whom I've never even heard and refused to help me solve our financial problems! You're fucking delusional if you think you're the one trying here. I've been doing it for so long, Finn... I'm tired now', I throw it all out and sigh. My anger's been freed. I feel lighter now, even if the storm's on its way, at least I stopped pretending that the remote thunder's just defeaning music I hear every night.

'What are you talking about, Clarke?', his voice suddenly shifts and I feel a certain kind of satisfaction at the way his face twitches in concern. It's almost like watching someone who's gradually losing the ground underneath his feet; he feels it and he realizes he's slipping down into the abyss, so he slowly becomes panic-stricken, but he doesn't know yet what's to come. And this lack of knowledge gives him nightmares.

'It's too late to fix anything now. I've tried and tried, but now when you're finally ready to do it too... I don't want it', I shrug. I fight the urge to smile. It's so easy, so bloody easy to say it aloud. To finally get rid of all the stones lying heavily on my heart. All the stones I haven't even known were there, until I realized how fiercely the gravity pulled me down. Until I realized, it was getting difficult to breathe, because my lungs were slowly getting crushed by this burden.

'You don't want it...? What the fuck, Clarke? I'm trying, okay? I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry, I've been such an idiot, but it's good now', his eyes are wide, his hands arranged as if he was praying.

'It's not good, Finn. I might be a mess, but you're a mess too. We're not good together', I say quietly, overwhelmed by my own statement. I've tried. And I failed. And I'm both happy and devastated, because of this waste.

He glares at me incredulously and I know he gave in.

This man, the man I've fought for weeks to keep, gave up on me after a minute of fighting.

'You know what, Clarke? You're fucking crazy', he replies angrily, but I want to laugh in his face, because _Finn! I already know that one!_

'Maybe. Maybe we both are, but it doesn't matter now. It's over, Finn', I say vehemently, but don't look him in the eye. I don't want him to see my expression, my regretful eyes, my lips twitched in pain.

I leave the apartment with one sports bag. I haven't packed all of my things, but the majority is there. I drop it at the bar, Nate doesn't say a word when he sees me at the entrance. He nods his head, takes it from me and hugs me. And that's it. My whole goodbye to the old life. My old, pitiful, pathetic life I've lived convinced of its worth, because it _must _have been worth _something_, right?

It's almost midnight, when I walk outside of the bar; it turned out I slept for the entire day.

I have nowhere to go, so I keep going forward. I'm completely sober, but I feel intoxicated. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep, I have no fiance, no home.

I look up when I see bright neon lights reflected in one of the puddles. It's a small building that looks abandoned, but I know it's not. The neon is probably the name of this place. _Indra's Bar_.

My mind gives me a flashback of something, a piece of paper, I just can't remember what were the circumstances.

I come inside. I wish I didn't, but even when my mind screams out in alert sign, my feet keep walking.

The lights are dimmed, the music's slow, sensual and there's smoke everywhere. I'm not sure whether it's because of the cigarettes or maybe it's an artificial smoke, because there are just a few people and none of them are smoking. I spot a woman behind a counter with something like a tattoo on her face. She has a fierce look on her face and when her eyes focus on me, I shiver.

'You're fighting tonight?', she asks, but it doesn't sound quizzically and before I have a chance to say anything, she leads me to some doors. Behind them there are stairs that lead to another room. Full of people screaming, smoking and drinking. There are dozens of them, but the place's surprisingly small. There's a guy next to the entrance, but the woman nods in his direction and he takes a step back to let us in.

'She told me she's got some pretty blonde for tonight... We shall see', she says inscrutably, with a dangerous smirk on her face, measuring me with her eyes. I feel a sudden rush of adrenaline in my veins and I want to say something, but I don't even know where to start and the woman is already gone. I turn my head left and above the heads of the crowd I see a ring. On the ring there's a woman. She looks at me surprised, but quickly composes herself. Her demeanor is now cold and imperious and I wonder what the hell I'm even doing in this place. We gaze at each other in complete silence, everyone seems to freeze at the spot.

Suddenly, the people start backing off as if to create some space for me to walk through it. They look at me expectantly as the woman on the ring nods in my direction. I take a few steps uncertainly, my heart hammering in my chest. _What on Earth is going on here...?_

Slowly, I walk onto the ring and raise my chin to glance at the mysterious woman. I look around, but there's no way out, the crowd is gathered around us, but it's seems as if there were only the two of us. I breathe shallowly as the woman comes closer and gazes at me tauntingly.

'Don't worry, baby. It won't take long', she smiles at me patronizingly, but there's certain cruelness in her expression and my stomach squirms.

My eyes don't leave hers, covered in black smugs all around and it's the first of many mistakes I make this night... _No, it's the second. _

The first was taking a step inside this haunted building.

* * *

**(Okay, you can now yell at me in the comments, guys!)**

**I've never suspected that it would take so long for me to get my shit together and actually write the next chapter. I won't explain or justify myself, because I'm pretty certain you don't care, I'm just going to say: I'm sorry.**

**Hopefully (!) there's still some of you left around, so I'm counting on your invaluable reviews, that give me a huge motivation to keep on writing. I know I don't deserve it, but hopefully you'll have some mercy upon me. **

**THANK YOU for your glorious reviews, for sticking around (if that's even true, 'cause I wouldn't be surprised if you gave up on this story- SORRY once again), for being so wonderful with all your kind words, because you have no idea how greatly that affects me and for reading, for giving this story the time of a day. **

**PS: I hope you liked the chapter, even if it didn't quite meet your expectations after such a long hiatus. Who do you think is the woman on the ring?**

**PS2: Have a lovely weekend, guys and just... you're all wonderful.**


	10. Sister of Nike

**[I obviously don't own anything.]**

* * *

She's beautiful. She's dangerous. She's like a hurricane, she's unstoppable.

_Lexa._

I taste her name on my lips as she puts some ice on my cut lower lip.

It's three a.m. I'm beaten up. _Did she win or did I lose?_

'I had no idea it was some bloody fight bar', I spit furiously. She took me to her tiny house just two minutes from that shady building.

'You're a good fighter, Clarke', she replies, a taunting smirk playing on her full lips.

'Shut the fuck up', I roll my eyes, but surprisingly, she laughs. It's quite a beautiful sound and I catch myself listening to it intently.

'So, how did you find me?', she asks as if my sole purpose this night was to find this exact woman.

'I didn't find you. I got lost in the area. Besides, I think you got the wrong person to fight', I raise my eyebrow at her in a teasing manner.

'I thought she'd come', she shrugs as if I knew whoever that poor human was.

'Well, _she _didn't. I did', I say angrily through clenched teeth. My entire face burns, my fists are bruised and I feel like my head's about to explode.

'Stop being so angry, Clarke. It's what the game's about', she shrugs and breaks the eye contact.

I want to ask what kind of a sick _game_ she means, but I decide against it. She looks like some wild, exotic animal to me, the one that destroys everything to provide its own survival.

'I need to go. Thanks for the ice', I stand up, swaying on my feet. She glances at me amused, but doesn't say word.

'See you around', she raises an eyebrow as she watches me leave.

'Maybe in hell', I counter bitterly. I don't plan on coming back here any soon. Or at all.

I hear her mocking laughter as I close the doors.

I spend the rest of the night trying to fall asleep at the back of Miller's bar. He's nowhere to be seen and I'm glad, because he's been worrying too much about me these last few days.

I spend the next week just walking around the town, talking with Lincoln in his car at parking lots at night, trying to forget about Lexa and her twisted world.

I see her one night though, when I leave Miller's bar to buy a pack of cigarettes. She's standing in front of a 24/7 shop and talks with someone on the phone. She notices me just as I'm about to enter the building.

'Hey, blondie. Where have you been?', she smirks and puts her cell-phone in a pocket of her worn-out jeans.

'As far from you as possible. You know, just trying to live a normal life', I counter impatiently. I want to go away from her, she makes me feel _very _self-conscious and _very _uneasy.

'Didn't think you were that weak', she retorts sharply. I see her glaring at me teasingly, so I break the eye-contact.

'I don't know what you're talking about', I utter through clenched-teeth.

'You gave up after one fight, Clarke. I was hoping you'd come around', she comes closer, perhaps to intimidate me and I feel the urge to step back. I don't.

'I might be weak, but apparently you're the one who's _insane_. I've never even wanted to fight in the first place. Why would I want to ever come back?', I stare at her incredulously. For some reason, she chose me as her prey.

'All I know is that the underground is much better than the purgatory, blonds', she drops her attitude and steps back, mockery all over her pretty face. I frown, not fully comprehending what she just said.

'Yeah, it's a bit crowded though. Lest you choke on the smoke, Lexa', I finally counter and leave the area before she has a chance to retaliate.

I don't sleep the night. Her face keeps haunting me whenever I close my eyes, her words ringing in my ears. I catch myself walking around the shady building where I first met her a few days after our last encounter. I try to stop doing that, but I realize that I have nowhere else to go. I work at Miller's bar, but his worried looks leave me uneasy, so I spend as little time there as possible. Besides, I don't want to run into a very certain brunette boy or his pretty little sister.

Finn calls me around twenty times a day, sends dozens of texts; some of them are polite, asking me to come back, others accuse me of betraying his feelings. Sometimes I see Raven taking shots of vodka with random strangers, leaning her elbows on the countertop, trying to hide visible hurt in her eyes. _Did he reject her?_

Monty sends me a text every evening. It's always the same question: _Call me if you're ok._ _I'm worried_. I never call him. I feel quilty though ever time I see the message.

Lincoln tells me stories about the town's history, his job (he's become a martial arts instructor, again), tries to avoid Octavia's subject, but cannot resist to praise her fighting skills, sometimes he tells me something about Murphy, which I don't understand since I no longer care about the guy (not that I ever did). We meet in his car once or twice a week, he parks in strange parking lots where no one can see us, even though it doesn't make any difference. The town's empty at the night, not even a ghost on the streets.

Sometimes, he reminds me of the old times, sometimes we sit in silence for an hour, listening to his radio.

He never mentions Bellamy, even though he well knows that I'm aware of the fact, that Nate must've told him about Octavia's brother weeks ago. Hell, she probably told Lincoln about Bellamy herself, or even introduced them, she loves her brother just as much as he loves her.

Lincoln's the only person I can be almost completely honest with. Mainly, because he always picks up his phone and offers me a place to stay, even though he knows what the answer is. My dad used to say that true friends come when the entire world leaves.

I tell Lincoln about Indra's bar, which leaves him stunned. _How did you find that place? I used to go there to fight. _He warns me not to visit the place, _it's _dangerous, he says, but that doesn't scare me, quite otherwise actually. I remember the note with the address of the bar he left on the counter in my kitchen at the apartment during one of the parties and I almost laugh at how everything flows, goes, comes around... Was it just an accident that I'd seen the address before? _Fate_?

_Panta rhei,_ I hear Murphy's mocking voice in my head and shake it with disgust. He's the last person I need to have on my mind.

Second to last, actually.

Against my better judgement, I start visiting Lexa's bar everyday. I watch her fights, I stay after them to practise, I find strange pleasure in it. Weeks pass and we meet everyday, sometimes day in, day out, sometimes I don't see her for a few days straight. Whenever I do so, she greets me with a strange expression on her face and I almost believe she's worried about my safety. But then we meet at the ring and she doesn't care about my soft skin or weak stamina. She doesn't care about my health. She's so full of herself it's almost mesmerizing, how the only value she treasuers is... _survival_.

'Got something today', she says and I follow her. We use the train to get to the town nearby, The Ark. I get a strange feeling in my stomach when we watch the sunrise.

'Feeling sentimental?', Lexa smirks and I shake my head, glancing at her annoyed.

'Piss off', I only say and turn my face away from her eyes. My guts squirm as I remind myself all the bizarre moments I've lived through a few weeks ago. I see Bellamy's face in my mind, I hear his voice and it's not bad things he said about my life. I see him opening the doors of his house, making a mint tea for me, following me to my house, which now seems to me more like an attempt to keep me safe... Something I've realized just a few days ago when I saw him searching the shelves of the library with Murphy saying something (probably spiteful) over his ear. I saw his familiar, gentle face and realized that he only followed me for one reason and it wasn't because he's some sick stalker.

I truly believe he cared about me in some twisted way.

And it's a shame, but it could only work when I was still that girl, when I lost myself and couldn't do anything about it and the only option, my only choice was meeting him. _Fate._

But now, it's different.

I have eggs in my hands.

I see police in front of me, the entire wall of dark uniforms. They have shields, we have eggs. I stop in my tracks, but Lexa runs, she runs ahead of me and only turns around to check if I'm behind, an extra force to take them down. She grabs my arm and I move, but it feels like slow-motion. I shout at her. She doesn't listen.

'Clarke!', she screams, crowd of people in front of me and plenty of youngsters behind me. I think I might get trampled, so I run with them, but then someone throws at me me a black shawl and I hear somebody scream _hide!_. Someone sprays some kind of gas and I get jerked aside by Lexa's tight grip.

'Do you have a death wish?!', she screams at me as we lie on a grass.

'Do you?!', I manage to counter. We've been running for ten minutes.

'If they say hide it means hide!', she snorts and leans her upper body on the outer side of her forearms.

'How would I know? You're insane', I shake my head and look at the sky.

'I hate them. If that makes me insane... good', she only replies and I glance at her, but her face remains expressionless.

'If the _queen_ hates them, they need to be punished', I say ironically and she huffs.

'Come on, I always hear them talking. Is that because you always win your fights?', I look at her amused, it turns out her nickname honestly bothers her.

'I don't care what they say. It's personal', she adds and I'm not sure whether she's referring to the nickname or the police.

We walk around the town and buy ice cream. Vanilla's her favourite.

'Think we should go back', I say, but Lexa shakes her head.

'I have someone here. They could put us up for a night', she replies firmly.

'Not gonna happen, I... I have something to do back there', I cross my arms, pointing in the train's direction with my head.

'What? Your _friends_ miss you?', she mocks me and I want to punch her.

'I have to go', I only answer coldly and turn around.

'Clarke, wait!', she yells and for the first time since I met her, I hear concern in her voice. She's worried I'll leave her, just like everyone else. I want to laugh, because it's exactly how I feel about her. It's how my life is at the moment. Just me and her.

'I'll be at the bar tomorrow', I say without turning around.

'You better be', she spits as if it was her order. But we both know what it is.

_My choice._

* * *

**Hello, everyone! Again, I'm sorry for this late update, I hope there's still some of you left. Hopefully you liked the chapter and I'd LOVE to hear what you think of Lexa! Thank you for reading and all the reviews, you're absolutely and utterly superb! **


	11. Lost in the myth

**Hey, it's me, again! I got inspired and decided to publish it as quickly as possible for you. I don't anything, obviously, I don't even own a cat.**

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'You got me beaten up, blonds, I should kick your ass', I hear Lexa's voice behind me, but it's amused, so I smirk smugly.

I turn around to tell her that I_ appreciate the praise_, but my tongue refuses to cooperate with my brain. Or maybe it's the other way around.

Lexa's wearing black jeans and only a pink, lacy bra on the upper part of her body. I stare at her abdomen, her muscles are visible, her collarbones almost piercing through her skin. She talks about our earlier fight as she walks around her small apartment. Her hair's tied in braid, some of the waves jumping loosely every time she gets expressive about something. I glance at her usual make-up: dark shade around her eyes, a bit of foundation matching her pale skin and full lips with light pink balm smeared all over. She has bruised knuckles and a few scars on her shoulders and back, many tattoos, which are usually covered by her clothes, and yet she managed to look so young and innocent. She's probably beaten guys twice her weight or even fought with knives (which she says is nothing extraordinary underground, where the fights take place), but in this moment she's just a normal girl in her twenties, trying to pick a t-shirt matching her pants, watching her make-up intently, as if she was afraid her eye shadow would disappear, taking away her combative demeanor with itself.

I've never had any sister or a female friend.

Lexa's the closest I'll ever get to a girl friend, even though she tends to be temporarily insane while fighting. She always smirks, when I use this term: _temporarily insane_, but there's nothing more fitting to describe her in certain situations.

I've known her for two months and she managed to... lift me up. Show me a different world.

I do feel detached sometimes when I see Nate or Octavia, as though I lost an important piece of myself. But then, Lexa jumps on a racing train with me, shows me The Ark, where we spend most of our time together, takes me to the woods to teach me how to fight, defend, attack or pushes me to go on some protest with her. She knows my attitude toward the last one, but she's persistent in brain-washing me with some cliches about the oppressive government, but the truth is, she knows little about the situation in our town, region, country. The government is, indeed, oppressive, brutal and repressive, with its police structures trying to invade people's personal space while successfully managing to launder dirty money, practise corruption and bribery, but the fact remains, Lexa can do shit about it, especially since most of the protests are unorganized and spontaneous, ending with bloodshed- which is exactly what the authorities want. I feel strongly about rebellion and seeking the truth in this corrupt country, my father's always taught me to never let the power destroy the people. And so he tried to prevent that from happening. He failed.

I never say any of that to Lexa. She's too blind to see beyond her ideals, but it's also something that impresses me about her. She's relentless in her actions as if it was her life purpose to _fight. _Sometimes I think she's lost the sense of that fight a long time ago, but cannot live without constantly pushing herself, challenging others and dramatizing about chaos, which she's the very reason of. She loves being in the center of attention.

And she's all alone.

Sometimes, when I sleep at her place, she tells me a bit about herself, the people who left her, her fights and the history of The Ark. She doesn't say a lot, she's not particularly fond of confiding, but it makes me strangely joyous, to know, that I'm the one she's decided to trust with her buried secrets and stories.

She seems like a different person now, that I've known her for quite some time.

'_Clarke_...? Are you listening?', she stares at me expectantly.

'Yeah, no, sorry', I reply absent-mindedly and she shakes her head with disapproval.

'I was just talking about the action we're having today. The Ark', she says with a vicious smile and ties black head kerchief behind her head, so that it resembles triangle and covers most of her face. I notice she's fully clothed and has her leather jacket on.

'Wait, what...? Now?', I look at her in disbelief.

'Yeah, why not, Griffin?', her voice's become harsher now. She's pissed that I don't do what she asks me to without hesitation, but she knows me. I'm just as pig-headed as she is.

'I'm meeting someone tonight. I can't, sorry', I cross my arms as she tilts her head annoyed.

'You weren't with me last week, what the fuck, blondie?', she approaches me, but I refuse to break the eye-contact.

'Oh, _maybe_, just maybe, because I got hit with a police stick and couldn't even move my shoulder for two days straight, hm?', I counter sarcastically, but she's unimpressed. I still have a big purple bruise after that action.

'I told you to take one, so you could defend herself and you refused. It's not always just the eggs you know, Clarke', she retorts patronizingly and I snort.

'Yeah, like the time I carried _tear gas_? Or a freakin' _knife_?! We're far beyond eggs, Lexa', I say quietly, but firmly as I notice a weapon in her hand. It's a gun. I feel my hands shake, my pulse accelerates.

'But you didn't actually _use _them, Griffin! Stop being such a killjoy and come on. We'll be late', she replies flatly and opens the door as if my protest were nothing more than a game. I decide to use another argument, but I doubt it's strong enough to convince her. Anything's not strong enough to do that, she's unstoppable when she fixates on something.

'It's eight p.m., nobody's going to show up, okay? This is pointless and you're gonna get yourself hurt or worse', I glare at her furiously.

'Yeah, you said it yourself, nobody's going to show up', she retorts calmly and it makes me fuming.

'Screw this, Lexa', I say through clenched teeth and pass her in the doorway. I feel her hand grabbing my forehand.

'We're gonna be fine, Clarke', I stop and turn my head to look her in the eye. Our faces are centimetres apart, but our hearts are separated by hundreds of light years.

'Do you _ever_ care about anybody else? Leave me out of this. I'm not _killing_ anyone', I hiss and let go of my hand. I glance at her with disappointment one last time and leave her flat. I could swear I saw hurt in her beautiful, greenish eyes.

But it's impossible, isn't it? _The queen's never hurt, 'cause she's never to be betrayed._

I go to the bar as I get a text from Nate:

_Need you at the bar, Clarke._

I shove the phone into my jeans' pocket as I enter the familiar bar.

'Didn't expect you to be so quick', Miller looks at me surprised, but I only shrug indifferently.

'It's beyond crowded tonight, thanks for coming', he says, looking at me strangely.

'I'm still working here, aren't I? You don't have to thank me for showing up at work. You should fire me already', I hiss sharply. _Oh, aren't I sweet tonight..._

'Clarke... it's not... what I meant...', he stutters stunned and I feel bad for being so obnoxious to him, but somebody interferes out small talk behind the countertop.

'Haven't seen you lately, Clarke', I notice a familiar girl taking a seat opposite me. Her voice's flat, emotionless.

'Octavia', I smile uncontrollably. I've seen her a few times this month, but we barely spoke. Maybe it's because Lincoln tells her everything about me. Maybe it's because he tells me everything about her. Or maybe I just happened to yell at her beloved brother for being a lying sham.

Nevertheless, she's grown and started to put on _a lot _of make-up, especially black eye-shadow, which strongly reminds me of Lexa.

'Where have you been, Clarke?', she tilts her head and watches me intently as I pour her some vodka.

Nate observes me too, as if he wanted to hear the answer too.

'As far from this town as possible', I reply flatly and refuse to look her square in the eye.

'We used to sing here', she says and it sounds almost accusingly: _We used to sing here... but not anymore and it's your fault._

She says it as if it happened a lot of times, while the truth is, we only did it once. Before her brother messed with my life and left me alone to fix it. At least that's what I like to tell myself, even if it's not exactly true.

'How's Lincoln?', I ask ignoring her words, even though I'm about to meet him at midnight.

'Oh, don't know, really. We broke up', she replies casually, but hurt is visible in her expression, her voice trembling from emotions. She takes another shot of the liquor and asks for more.

'I'm sorry, I didn't know', I say quietly, but she snorts.

'Mhm, how could you? You were _gone_', she growls and I feel a sudden yank of pain in my stomach.

'Oh, don't say anything. I know you've been busy making new friends, because apparently the old ones weren't enough', she adds bitterly. I feel tears in the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill.

'Everything was so blurry... I was...', I stutter helplessly, but Octavia raises her hand to silence me.

'Lost? We all were. You think you're the only one who had it rough those days? Lincoln didn't have a house, he slept in his car, trying not to raise suspicions with all those nights spent in your apartment. Raven Reyes? She's known Finn for ages, she's been madly in love with him, even though he's such a bastard. They used to be together, did you know? Before you and Finn met. He promised her the world and left her with nothing. Monty's been struggling to pay for his uni for half of a year now, Jasper's broken up with Maya and it nearly _destroyed _him and _you_ have the audacity to claim exclusiveness for suffering...? I _know_, Clarke, it's been hard, I've known the you from a few months ago._ I get it_. But you didn't have to pull this off and just... go. Must've been easy to leave all of the_ liability _behind, wasn't it?', she glares at me mockingly as I feel a solitary tear rolling down my cheek. I want to defend myself, but I can't.

'You could've quit', is my cruel response and she snickers without amusement. I bite my lower lip and close my eyes. I shouldn't've said that, it's not even what I wanted to say... _What happened to me? We used to... We used to be..._

'I don't quit', she hisses with despise and gets up, swaying on her feet. _Quitters finish first_, Murphy's voice again manages to get into my head and I hate myself for even remembering his words.

'Maybe because it's not as easy as you think', I whisper, trying to maintain calm voice. Octavia stares at me for a moment without saying a word.

'You kept blaming everyone, but with some help, you _could_'ve gone to the university, change your life, even if it sounds so cliche. But it was easier to stay in your limbo, wrapped in loneliness that _you _created. You didn't let anyone get closer to you. Do you even know how amazing Raven is? Monty's the best friend you could ever have and Lincoln's always been just as lonely as you. You just never noticed. I used to like you, Clarke, understand you. But you're so full of contradictions, even I couldn't catch up', she says, almost wistfully. I'm silent, I don't want my voice to give away my emotions or I'd start crying. She glares at me and snorts.

'I wish Bellamy... He has a saviour complex. He can't shut up about you', she says spitefully and I look at her incredulously. _Bellamy? Why is she talking about him? Why is he... _

'I wish he stopped idealizing you. You're the one who got into this mess and did nothing to get out of it... Bellamy has a thing for myths', she says the last sentence as if to herself and leaves me all alone.

I look around, but Nate's nowhere to be seen. I leave a short note on the countertop:

_I'm sorry, Nate. Consider me fired. C_

I leave the bar and walk pointlessly around the town for the next hour, mulling over everything Octavia said. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't even know who I am. Did I make it all up? Did I not notice that everybody else had it worse? _Did they had it worse? DOES IT EVEN MATTER? _

Her words are ringing in my ears and my head's spinning. I can't stop tears from running and I hate myself for being so weak.

_How could I not know about Lincoln's situation?_

_Was I really so absorbed with my own problems, I forgot about everyone else?_

_But I WAS not okay! I was hurt, exhausted, alone..._

I go to Lexa's apartment and open it with the keys she gave me two weeks ago. I almost jump when I spot her lying on the couch.

'Clarke', she seems surprised to see me too as I pour myself a glass of water.

'Got anything stronger?', I demand without as much as hello.

I hear her getting up and approaching me from behind.

The light's dimmed, so it's dark, but I can see a cut on her right cheek. I frown, but she shakes her head as if to say _it's nothing, blonds._

'What happened?', she inquiries surprisingly softly and I break the eye-contact, looking at the floor. I feel tears rolling down my cheeks.

'I told you, Clarke. People betray us', she says calmly and wipes the tears off my face with her hands. I lean my body on the kitchen counter and bite my lower lip. I feel blood on my tongue.

She takes a step back and turns her head left as if to look out of the window.

'I do', she says quietly after a moment of silence. I look at her incredulously. She focuses her eyes on me and sighs.

'You asked me earlier if I ever cared about anybody else. I do', she repeats staring at me with her piercing eyes and comes closer.

'I care about _you_', she says almost inaudibly, but her lips are so close to my face I can hear her perfectly.

I feel a strange pull in my stomach, my eyes leave hers and focus on her lips.

I wish I remembered how or when, but everything fades as she leans to kiss me.

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**I know some of you might not ship Lexa with Clarke, but I promise you all of this has a point and Bellamy will show up soon. **

**I need to know what you think of Lexa, so let me know in your reviews and also, do you agree with Octavia's words? **

**Lincoln's thing with Clarke's apartment's been solved, so I'd love to know your opinion about it too. **

**Thank you very much for all your kind words and I'D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU ALL THINK OF THIS CHAPTER! xo**


	12. Odyssey

I notice a familiar silhouette leaning on a car door, just a few metres from me. I approach the man trying to calm my racing heart.

'Hey', I greet Lincoln flatly. He nods his head.

Neither of us gets in the car.

'Beautiful night, isn't it?', he says quietly and I raise my head to look at the cloudless night sky. All the stars are visible, but there's no moon.

'She told me', I inform him firmly.

'I don't want to talk about it, alright', he replies sharply and it doesn't even sound quizzically.

'But I do, Lincoln. Why didn't you tell me you were homeless? I could've helped you!', I say desperately, trying to force some emotional reaction from him.

'Like it's such an easy thing to say, Clarke. We all had our stuff to deal with', is his flat reply and I cross my arms.

'So you also think I'm a _quitter_', I ask, but realize it doesn't even sound like a question.

'Octavia', he looks at me suspiciously and snorts as he enunciates her name. I nod my head, not looking at him. He sighs as if he was mad at her for speaking her mind in such a blunt way. As if he didn't know her, she always does it.

'She's... She's a warrior. Doesn't take anyone's bullshit. She judges everyone, because she has strong values she believes in. She expects more from her friends, because she thinks she'd do something for wouldn't leave, so she expects the same from everyone. But the world's not black and white, we're all living somewhere in the grey and Octavia thinks she can save the world with her righteous moral compass. She's just like her brother... The thing is, Clarke, we all had our ways to cope with our demons. You left, because it was the only way for you to heal', he explains calmly.

'I don't think you're a quitter, but it doesn't matter, Clarke. What matters is what _you_ think of yourself and what you will do about it', he adds with a small smile and I turn around to wrap my arms around his neck.

He returns the hug and we stand like this for a few minutes.

'I fight for money', I confess quietly and I'm not sure he hears me. I'm not sure I want him to hear me.

'I know. Indra told me a week ago', he replies after a moment of silence and I'm stunned.

'Indra? How do you know her?', I demand, moving my head back so that I can look him in the eyes.

'We used to... hang around. Well, something more than that actually. We were like a family', he replies absent-mindedly.

'What happened?', I ask softly, but he shakes his head. I take a step back and watch him intently.

'I left. Being stuck in the underground was the worst thing that happened to me, all the fighting and money laundering, police,_ fear_. I thought I had a family though. Then I met Octavia. And I decided to quit. I quit, Clarke, just like you. It was my only way to heal, detoxicate', he says firmly. I sigh and shake my head. I have so many things to say, explain, countless feelings to name, I don't even know where to start.

'I was exhausted and now... I thought I found my place, you know. But then I saw Octavia and I felt _heartbroken_, I can't stop seeing you and I miss... I miss my friends', I stutter as Lincoln realizes I changed the words. I do miss my friends, but there's someone I miss particularly, even though it feels stupid and completely out of place, but... I still catch myself checking the phone in hopes of receiving a message from a boy, who apparently has a thing for myths and happens to appear in my blurry dreamy visions.

'Running's only easy at the beginning. Then you get tired and lose the sense of it all, start looking for a safe place to stay. The underground isn't safe. It's time to come home, Clarke', he says quietly as I turn around to leave.

I freeze for a few seconds before resuming my walk. Lincoln doesn't follow me, but he must know where I'm headed. I made the decision. I think I made it a long time ago, I'm just too stubborn to admit to failing. Because I did fail. I failed at forgetting and moving on.

I open the door of Lexa's apartment and take my sports bag out of her wardrobe. I pack my clothes, cosmetics and look around trying to remember everything I've left here.

'Clarke? What are you doing?', I hear a cold female voice from behind and almost jump at the sound. She's dressed in her long black nightdress that reminds some fancy dress. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what's to come. I can hardly find words to express eveyrything I want her to know.

'I can't do this anymore, Lexa... Thank you for offering me a place to stay, but it must've ended at some point. I can't keep on running', I say quietly as I throw the sports bag on my shoulder. It's easier to avoid eye-contact, my heart's already heavy, I feel it pulling me down. I choose to continue, to tell her _why _this_ why _that... It's always the _why_ that puzzles us the most, I _need_ her to know the answer.

'For a past few weeks I've been wondering, why am I still anxious, sad, insecure...? Why is this still happening, when I left the people who made me unhappy all those months ago? You say that people let you down and you cut them out of your life straightaway. But sometimes people who are our real friends deserve a second chance, otherwise we turn our backs on them and leave ourselves with nothing, but a dirty conscience. _This_ is why you and me ended up all alone. I miss my friends. They made me unhappy, yes, but I miss them and I want to go home', I add firmly, before she has a chance to say anything. There's silence after my words, silence that's defeaning, slowly embracing the entire room, sucking in the oxygen.

'Do as you wish, Clarke. But don't come back to me with your heart broken when they let you down now', she only replies emotionlessly and I approach her swiftly.

'Thank you for everything you've done for me. I'll never forget that', I say softly, but she breaks the eye-contact.

'After you quickly left to see Lincoln without a word when we kissed, I knew it'd end like this', she utters when I open the entrance door to leave. I have to make it quick. It's how we've been for the past few weeks. Quick fights, fast healing, little sleep, the rush of adrenaline and fighting again, protesting, laughing, running, sitting on the rooftops observing the city... But there was always a certain kind of rush to it, as if we didn't have enough time for anything. As if there was always something else to be done.

'It has nothing to do with that... _kiss_', I lie smoothly and bite my lower lip.

'I think it does. You love someone else and you can't run from that. It haunts you every night and keeps you awake. I was curious why you felt a sudden need to get out of your comfort zone and live like me, but now I understand. Only a person we love has the power to break us, am I wrong?', she asks and I hear mockery in her voice. I can also hear her pain.

I try to not let her words get into my head, I try not to admit that I miss them, I miss him, _oh, Lord_, I shouln't've jumped... The train, the nights, fireflies, _alcohol_, cigarettes, fries and Octavia... Did it really happen? Or maybe I just don't feel love the way Lexa does?

_Did I fall? _Is that what it feels like? Constant escape from all the haunting thoughts and confusing feelings, is that how I feel about him? Is she playing or did I really just fall?

'May we meet again, Lexa', I only say calmly and leave before she has a chance to answer.

When I leave the building I don't turn around. I know exactly where to go.

I open the door of my old apartment and enter it as quietly as I can. The lights are off and silence's overwhelming, so I suspect everyone must be asleep. I glance at the wall clock. It's almost one a.m. I smirk at the memory of myself coming home from work at this hour or even later; all of my roomates were always up, drinking, dancing, singing, kissing. I head to my old bedroom with a racing heart. Lincoln told me that Finn moved out a few weeks after I did, but he hasn't informed me whether anybody else took his place. The rent's pretty high, they must've...

My room's empty, my bed made. I almost laugh at the sight. I drop my bag, take my leather jacket off and take a look around the room. Nothing's changed and yet everything's different. I'm different.

I bury myself underneath clean and fresh sheets (Jasper must've washed them after I left) and close my eyes. Falling asleep at home is the easiest thing in the world, after months of sleeping in Lincoln's car, at the back of Nate's bar, at Lexa's house or roughly- on the streets.

It's nearly nine a.m., when I wake up and I feel a sudden wave of fear as I get out of bed and remind myself of the events of last night. I look out of the window searching for the courage I need to actually step out of my bedroom. I glance at the walls, the carpet, my wardrobe. Everything seems so dissimilar and yet familiar.

_Alright, Clarke. You got this. Just get the hell out of this room. _

_You made this choice so go with it and meet them. Tell them, baby girl, tell them the story of your little runaway or maybe it's the wrong story? Perhaps you should tell them about someone else to make them understand... _

_Understand what? My feelings, motives, intentions? _

_I don't fucking understand them myself._

I take the first step, my hands are shaking, I feel a sudden wave of heat spreading all over my body. I honestly don't know why I'm so nervous, these people are my friends, but... _Did I let them down? Do they think I'm a coward? Was Octavia..._

'Can I take one?', I ask quietly, my voice trembling as I enter the kitchen without Monty noticing. He's standing in front of the fridge singing Beyonce's _If I Were A Boy. _

_Quite an interesting choice of a song._

I smile to myself as he turns around rapidly. I point at the plate full of sandwiches on the table next to me. For a moment, I think he might pass out, he seems so stunned it's almost amusing. He holds his breath and I hold mine too.

'Of course. Half of them are with mayonnaise though', he replies composed after a few seconds and focuses his eyes on the contents of the fridge once again. I couldn't ask for a better welcome and he knows it's not what I expect; hugs or pompous words. I just want to feel like I'm home. His casual behaviour causes me to grin uncontrollably as I take a bite of a sandwich. It's with mayonnaise.

'This is the best sandwich I've ever eaten', I announce and he grins without glancing at me.

'No way', he replies playfully and I chuckle.

He finally finds what he was looking for and places a jar of cherry jam on the table in front of me as he takes a seat opposite me.

I open my mouth to say something, but he raises his eyes to look at me and it stops me.

'Nate's been here almost every day when you were gone. Same with Lincoln. There's nothing left to say', Monty says firmly and smears the jam all over his sandwich. It now consists of bread, white cheese, mayonnaise, jam and lettuce.

'It's good to have you back home', he adds without looking at me and nothing else is said about my disappearance. Even when Jasper comes back from shopping two hours later, his only reaction is a quick hug and a _You forgot to buy milk on your way back_ said with a slight pretension.

I check my phone automatically and suprisingly there's a new message. I open it up with a racing heart and...

„_Heard u back in town come to the library i got smth 4 u. JM"_

Murphy. John Murphy.

_What could he possibly have for me?_

'I'll be back soon', I shout in an unknown direction as I leave the flat and shove my phone into the pocket of my worn-out jeans. I really should buy myself some new clothes.

I enter the library with mixed feelings. Murphy means trouble and I honestly cannot predict his behaviour. How does he even know I'm back at my old apartment? My opinion of him is quite low so when I notice him between shelves I grimace.

'No pleasure to see you again, none at all', I greet him with suspicious voice and frown. He smirks smugly.

'Miss Griffin herself... What an honour. Didn't expect you to react so fast', he tilts his head with amusement as I cross my arms.

'What game are you playing Murphy? I left the job months ago, what could you _possibly_ want from me?', I demand with no further prelude. His very presence annoys me and I can't imagine what could link me to this shady bloke. One thing though keeps me on my toes, one thing that could be the connection... Is it about the fights? Does he know about it too?

Who am I kidding, John Murphy knows all things illegal.

'Oh, I see you've become incredibly impatient over those last months. Not a good trait', he replies spitefully and turns around.

'I'm not playing, Murphy. Spit it out', I growl.

'Your fellas got a package for you around two months ago, but you kinda blew everyone off, so they decided to give it to me', he shrugs as he appraches me with a small rectangle in his hands. I stare at it suspiciously, my pulse accelerating. _Two months ago?_

'Why would they give it to you? Who's this from anyway?', I demand anxiously, I can't hide my restlessness. He gives me the package and steps back, eyeing me with his eyebrows raised.

'Because it's a book. Somebody really wanted you to receive it. They've been coming here every day for the past few weeks to check if it's still there', he teases me as I stare at the gift.

'Who is this from?', I glare at him furiously.

'Oh, I don't know, really. I think you do though', he smirks smugly and walks away, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. I roll my eyes and take a look at the place. No one's in and all the chairs are empty.

I take a seat and place the package on the table in front of me. I take my jacket off and hang it on the wooden chair. I sit down and tear the paper with my shaking hands. I don't want my cloud of supposed unawareness to disperse, even though I well know I already have all the answers I need.

It's a book.

_Greek mythology_ written in golden large font on a dark scarlet cover.

I open it carefully, my fingers trembling and I frown as I notice a few words written neatly in the bottom right corner of the first blank page.

_For the girl from a myth_

_B._

I can hear my heart beating abruptly, I glance at an another page, but it's all a blur when I hear somebody taking a seat opposite me. I don't dare to look up, but I know, I just know. It's him. It's Bellamy.

It's not the fall that destroys you.

It's the landing.*

I can perfectly feel it when I look up to meet his eyes, all my feelings finally put in place. My head's no longer spinning around, I can feel the ground underneath, I'm not falling anymore. I already fell and I lost control. I missed him, oh, how I missed the boy from my dreams.

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**HELLO! Told you Bell'd appear soon, so here we are. This chapter's a bit incoherent and a lot's going on, but I really wanted you to have it already. The Clexa plot's necessary as Lexa plays a major role in a turmoil that's about to happen (spoiler alert!)... It'll involve Bellamy though, no worries. **

**I've been dropping some hints about Clarke's feelings, but everything's messy and the girl still has a lot of figuring out to do, so it's not going to be that easy. **

**I hope you liked the chapter, so please review and THANK YOU for your feedback, it gives me a lot of motivation. 'Till the next one!**

**Oh, one last thing:**

**It's actually not relevant to the story at all, but this * refers to the line from the tv show: Sherlock BBC. I loved it and decided to kinda use it here. Anyways, if you have any thoughts whatsoever about this chapter, I'd love to know them!**


	13. A modern myth

**THIS CHAPTER IS WRTTEN FROM BELLAMY'S POV. Enjoy!**

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'I promised myself I'd find you'

I stare at her intently, trying to predict her reaction. My words sounded a bit too pompous, I'm aware of that silghtly annoying fact, but I only said what's true. Her face expression never changes though, so I frown and tilt my head uncontrollably. Our last encounter ended up in an argument, so I didn't expect any warm welcome. I crossed the line back then, my guts still squirm when I think about that moment. _I shattered her_. Or so I thought, because apparently, she's unbroken.

'Please, Clarke, say something. I know I fucked up', I say very quietly, my voice full of genuine regret. There's no one around us and yet I have a feeling as if we were exposed. I hear the sound of rain outside, how fitting.

I watch her carefully, but nothing comes out of it. She's silent.

'It's going to be wet', she utters and I'm stunned. For a second I'm convinced I have some undetected problems with hearing. She stares at the scarlet book in front of her with a blank expression.

'What?', I blurt out dumbfounded. She looks up to lock her blue eyes with mine, but she looks completely absent-minded.

'Your book. It'll get ruined', she whispers and my mind gives me a vivid flashback of our encouter in my house a couple of months ago. Something's different though. She's not pretending this time and she's never gone insane in the first place. Now, it seems as though she needed time to comprehend new information, as if she pressed the obvious reaction to the back of her mind trying to stay in her seemingly confused state as long as possible. I do notice her tight jaw though, her clenched fists and shallow breath.

_You're not going to fool me again. I've been looking for you for far too long to fall for your tricks._

'Stop this, Clarke. You're mad at me, I know it. No need for this charade', I say provocatively, I know this will piss her off. Her gaze meets mine and I freeze. It's like a storm on the ocean, the perfect shade of blue.

'_Charade_? You show up after I've been trying to rebuild my life for _months_ and you expect me to... what, exactly? I think you've already said all you needed to say, after out little train ride, do you remember, Apollo?', she hisses through clenched teeth. She's livid, but... not really. It's almost as if she forced herself to be mad at me, to react this way. Deep down in her eyes I see a different feeling, something strange I can't even name.

Her mentioning out mythological references makes me clench my teeth. It's just one of those things I've missed too much those last few weeks.

I wonder about her words for a moment and I want to laugh in her face. I don't think she realizes my basic problem with her entire disappearance. I've been worried sick about her, hearing numerous rumours from people who're not exactly righteous. She doesn't get it, all of my anger aimed at her for vanishing so abruptly, but the truth is... It's just a smokescreen, a hoax. The only person I'm truly mad at is myself. This is all my fault. I see it when I look at her fatigued eyes, her trembling, chapped lips, sharp cheekbones, way too visible collarbones. _Wonder who's fault is it, you bloody idiot._

'You fucking left, Clarke. _Rebuild your life_? That's an interesting euphemism for running around with knives, bats or guns', I counter aggressively and for the first time I have her full attention. _Is that it? Have I crossed it this time?_ I hope I did. I hope she understands how desperate I was about her when she was gone. It's what people tend to say: _if something happens to him or her, I'll..._ But I can perfectly feel it this time. How could she be so irresponsible with her life? I could've protected her, for God's sake, why would she throw herself at armed police with just a stick in her unskilled hands, why would she be so reckless with her own life? Maybe I don't know her. Maybe I don't know who she is at all.

'What do you even want, Bellamy? Yes, I left and got involved in some illegal actions, but... wait, how do you even know all of this?', she glares at me baffled, but there's a certain triumph to her expression, something I don't quite understand. My heart fills with tremor when I realize she knows something I don't. _What did you do, Clarke?_

'The anti-government movement your dear little friend Lexa so savagely supports makes quite some noise around the area, didn't you know?', I mock her, because how could she be this careless? Getting involved in shady shit like this? I wonder what else has she been doing throughout all those weeks of her disappearance and I have a lump in my throat.

_Fuck you_, she mouths, but doesn't say it out loud. I smirk and shake my head. Can't she understand why I'm doing it? _Why can't she never understand?_

'You said you were looking for me', she says emotionlessly after a moment of silence. She touches the cover of the book with her index finger and refuses to look at me. She's clearly resigned, but I don't understand her behaviour. What was she expecting me to say? Why did she give up already? And what did she even give up on?

I feel the tension suddenly decreasing and I release the breath I didn't even know I was holding.

'Two months. I've heard stuff from different folks, but you were... elusive. I've been busy during day time, but all those nights... I've had so many dreams about you, sometimes I thought I'd found you when I woke up', I shake my head with a smile of disbelief. I take my mask of confidence and rudeness off for a few seconds, but they cost. My facial expression swiftly changes as the air around us thickens.

I notice her shifting uncomfortably on her seat and I realize I might've revealed too much. She refuses to look at me, I've said what she wanted me to say, but perhaps not enough as her response rings in my ears.

'I need to go', she finally replies as my eyes widen in surprise. Before I have a chance to react, she grabs her jacket and book and gets up from her chair.

'Clarke, wait!', I catch up with her when we're already outside the building. I grip her forehand, forcing her to turn around when she doesn't answer my shouts.

It's raining, but I'm only reminded about that when I notice her damp hair. Inside I feel the adrenaline running through my veins, I don't feel the cold rain at all.

'What do you think you're doing?', she hisses taking a step closer to me as if to intimidate me. Her eyes are burning with hurt, confidence, rejection... _Rejection?_ _Honestly, Blake, what the hell..._

'I'm not that stupid Aphrodite from all those weeks ago, can't you get that? You hurt me. Badly. I've been though the worst period of my life and you showed up, _twice_, I've known the two sides of you, so that's your first. Your first lie. Then you pretend to care about me just to tear me to pieces in your truly enchanting speech about my fucked-up life. There goes the second. Where's the third? Spit it out. What do you want?', she growls, glaring at me furiously. Eventually, she's become truly angry and I can't find the right words to answer her questions.

'I didn't... I just... I couldn't forgive myself. You helped me once and eventually I returned the favour with all those terrible words. I couldn't stand the way you were wasting your life and then you fell back into this vicious circle, another extreme, this time with Lexa. I wanted to fix what I destroyed, that's what I wanted and that's what I still want', I reply, observing her facial expression. I wish I could say the truth, I really do. Perhaps it's just how things between us are meant to be. Always saying all the wrong things, never quite clearing the air, even though we both well know what we say is not really what we think. Or maybe it's just me trying to excuse my lies, she might not be such a liar, but... _I don't know._ I don't know her and it makes my guts squirm with regret.

She's disappointed, I can tell it. I frown as she snorts unamused.

'Another extreme. It's a nice way to put it, I like it, really', she says flatly and turns around.

'Wait, that's it? That's what you wanted to hear?', I blurt out puzzled.

'No. I guess... I wanted you to lie to me', she replies turning around in my direction with an ironic, forced smile. I stare at her, stunned. _Then that's what I did. I'm just not sure that's really the lie you wanted to hear. Or maybe you wanted the truth, but couldn't ask for it? Well then. I can't give it to you either._

'Clarke, come on', I say quietly and pull her closer until I wrap my hands around her. She leans her forehead on my shoulder and returns the hug.

'I lied', I utter almost inaudibly after a moment of silence.

'Then I want the truth', she backs off and stares at me unwaveringly. There's hope to her expression, a strange glow, but I can't give her the answer. I can't even face it myself.

'Why would you look for me? No one looked for me, but you did. Why?', she whispers and I break the eye-contact. Apparently my lame explanations about how she once helped me made no impression on her whatsoever.

_Why? Funny question._

I keep repeating it in my head long after she leaves me, a look of disappointment in her eyes.

_I can't allow you to be my Daphne. You ran away once and I'd wake up every night thinking of you, your whereabouts, our last conversation. If it happened again, I'd only be able to take it without allowing myself to face the truth. I'm protecting myself. So here we are, our fragile reality falling to pieces. You're Clarke, I'm Bellamy. Did we create a modern myth, trying so hard to escape it? _

'Will you ever get over her?', I hear a sharp, mocking voice bheind my back and turn around astonished. It's O. Before I have a chance to ask her why on Earth is she standing in the pouring rain in front of a library, my mind changes the question.

'Will you ever get over him?', I retort and stare at her expectantly. She looks at me with visible hurt and I almost regret what I just said.

I realize the true meaning behind my words and glare at Octavia, waiting for her to catch it. I wish she didn't, but it's not possible, because her feelings for Lincoln are definite and there's only one way to name them.

'You love her then', she says with disbelief after a moment of silence. I hear slight mockery in her voice, it's raspy and strangely quiet. There goes my bubble of weak protection. I close my eyes and try to follow all of my pacing thoughts.

'Go home, O, it's raining', I reply emotionlessly and turn around, trying to detach myself from her words.

'She fucking left, Bell!', she shouts angrily, her voice unsteady.

_Yeah and she came back, didn't she...?_

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**Well, not really, for Clarke there are a few more things to deal with.**

**...Heeeellooo from the other side! **

**Ok, so I hope you're not disappointed. Next chapter will be a lot more intense with some serious stuff going down, so stick around please.**

**THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS! And of course, I'd love to hear what you think of their multidimensional, weird reunion?**

**And damn, Blake siblings do have some abandonment issues, don't they? Tell me what you think!**


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